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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27125317">A Promise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdWItch/pseuds/NerdWItch'>NerdWItch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Outlander (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Pre-Season/Series 01, Romance, Slow Burn, Time Travel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:53:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,634</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27125317</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdWItch/pseuds/NerdWItch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In 2020, Jasmine Hammonds desperately craves a fresh start and so finds herself moving to Scotland. On a daytrip to the countryside with nothing but a bag over her shoulder and a very particular book in hand, she gets lost in a storm and wakes up on Lallybroch estate. With no memory of what happened to her and knowledge of world she thought to be fiction, Jas has to navigate through 18th century Scotland in a time where a woman of color held no bearing. </p><p>The worst part? She hasn't even finished Outlander yet.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser, Murtagh Fraser/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Stranger Comes to Lallybroch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <b>A Promise</b>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Disclaimer:</b> I do not own Outlander. It is owned by the fantastic Diana Gabaldon. Any characters you don’t recognise are mine. </p><p><b>Summary:</b> Jas moved to Edinburgh for a new start and to put the past behind her. </p><p>A/N: HELLO! What do you know, I’m back with another time-travel fic. I promised myself I wouldn’t write more until I’ve finished Millie and the King but I couldn't help myself. There’s a few housekeeping rules to get out of the way: </p><p>I’m new-ish to the Outlander fandom, please bear with me. I’m only on S3 and I’m currently reading the first book, so please don’t give spoilers in the comments and please be gentle. If there’s something I haven’t got right, I’d be happy to change it. I welcome constructive criticism, but not abuse. </p><p>The beginning of this takes place around a year or so before Season One and will then follow through the events of the series, with some changes. </p><p>I want to point out right now that my MC is a POC and as am I. Too often I realise that I automatically write fanfic OCs and other OCs as white and I’m trying to break that pattern because POCs can have epic adventures too.  </p><p>Given that Outlander is historical fiction, I’m going to try to be correct with how PoC were treated in those days, to a point. I’m never going to use a certain word in referral to my character and she will most definitely grow to fit into this world. It may to some extent be considered historically inaccurate, but this is fanfic. </p><p>I’m aware this is going to be not only AU but also meta, in the sense that my MC knows about Outlander as a work of fiction, but I’m playing around with new fandoms and I’m writing this first and foremost for fun.  </p><p>Last but not least, this is a Murtagh/OC, because there are far too few of those and he deserves some love. I’m playing around with some ideas that were in my head and this is what I came up with. With that out of the way, I hope you’ll enjoy this fic. Also, if you have a better suggestion for a title PLEASE let me know.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter One </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>A Stranger Comes to Lallybroch </em>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Murtagh’s POV</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>Murtagh Fraser could do with a drink. <br/>
Hell, he could do with a whole damn bottle. </p><p>There was no lie in the fact that he loved Lallybroch with all his heart and it was the place he considered home. Both in terms of where he physically allowed the sole of his boots press into the soil and in his soul. Jenny and Ian had been good to him for so many years and he cherished the privilege in watching Young Jamie grow old. One day, he’d understand the importance of clan kinship and running an estate. Unless of course Jamie ever married and had a bairn of his own, though at this point it was looking more likely that Murtagh himself became immortal.  </p><p>As for himself, well, Murtagh never truly considered fatherhood to be an option for him. He figured he’d probably die in battle or of old age with his loved ones surrounding him. That, or with Angus Mhor’s whisky ridden breath in his face.  </p><p>It wasn’t that he didn’t like bairns, he liked them just fine. Some of them even turned out to be decent adults. There was, however, a certain privilege in having his own freedom to do with as he pleased. Jenny seldom questioned his whereabouts if he wasn’t on the estate, although every now and then, she gave him this look as if there were better things a man could do with his time. Over the past few years, Jenny seemed to have made it her mission to find Murtagh a suitable woman to wed, but eventually gave up. All Fraser’s were stubborn and arguments with Jenny were seldom won, but on this occasion, she left the matter alone.  </p><p>For now. </p><p>Peace and quiet was a rare thing at Lallybroch. Especially with the British still keen on arresting Jamie, but luckily the lad was still in France, where he was safe. As much as one could be safe while acting as a mercenary in the French army. Nevertheless, Jamie had been raised well and knew how to defend himself. Despite Murtagh’s own feelings regarding Dougal MacKenzie, he’d taught Jamie well and for that he was thankful. </p><p>That night, Murtagh walked through the estate of Lallybroch, much like he had done for a few months now. Making sure that all was well gave him a sense of peace and made it easier to close his eyes and drift into slumber. Something had been different over the past few weeks, though and rather annoyingly, Murtagh couldn’t place his finger on what it was. Something bothered him, much like a child who won’t stop poking you. Much as most people in the highlands, superstition ran in the family and while Murtagh didn’t fach over much of it, he did take heed of some things. For example, that very morning he’d literally woken up on the wrong side of the bed and while normally it wouldn’t matter, small things kept bothering that he couldn’t put aside. </p><p>Without realising, Murtagh had strayed into the woods past the estate and simply allowed his feet to lead the way. They often knew where to take him, even if he did not.  </p><p>It came from out of nowhere. </p><p>What began as some high winds and a smattering of rain seemed to build into the worst storm Lallybroch had seen in generations. The wind didn’t howl, it screamed and the rain didn’t just fall down. It was merciless and torrential. The trees didn’t sway, but creaked, bended and moaned as their fine limbs were ripped away their autumnal leaves became ammunition in the gale. Murtagh hunkered down by an ancient ash tree, but any hope to seek shelter was useless.</p><p>At first, Murtagh thought his ears had deceived him or that it was just some trick played on him by the way. Upon listening more carefully, he knew he hadn’t imagined it. </p><p>A woman screaming and the sound of howling laughter of the British. Murtagh would recognise their horrid cackle anywhere. Carefully, he crouched and then moved stealthily through the bushes from whence the noise came. It didn’t take long before he saw them and the woman, but her screaming had seized. Instead, Murtagh peered through the leaves and noticed she lay on the ground with blood dripping from her head, while a British soldier stood with one leg over each side of her, undoing his trouser. </p><p>Murtagh Fraser would sooner rather die than let a woman fall prey to such a fate. Without thinking, he charged forward and pulled the sword from his sheath. The two young redcoats stood no chance and only moments later, both their bodies lay lifeless on the ground where they belonged. </p><p>Murtagh studied the young woman for a few moments, unsure what to make of her. Her skin was a sepia color, much like the mellow-brown light that usually bathed the forest in the early mornings of summer. Thick, dark curls fell down below her shoulder and her eyes were a deep shade of hazel. The strangest thing, he thought, was her clothes: trousers that seemed far too tight-fitting for a woman and a bright blue, long-sleeved shirt. A satchel bag hung over her shoulder, which was now covered in wet mud and Murtagh wondered what it contained. After some consideration and pondering what to say to Jenny, Murtagh Fraser picked up the woman over his shoulder and began the trek back to Lallybroch. </p><p>He’d been right about one thing, things were going to be strange. </p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>To be continued….</em>
  </strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Jasmine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Jasmine's life takes a strange turn...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>A/N</b>: Hey guys! I’m so glad you seem to like this fic already! I’m still not sure where I’m going with it, but it’ll work itself out. I was wondering by the way, would you like me to write in a third person point of view or stick to the Outlander style of first person?  </p><p>I know the term “aethiopian” wasn’t technically coined until around the 1850s, but I took some liberties for the sake of this fic. I hope you’ll forgive me.</p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter Two </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jasmine </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jasmine’s POV </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>48 hours earlier </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I supposed I could get used to the taste of whiskey. After all, it felt rude to turn down a drink that was such an engraved part of Scotland’s history. Truthfully though, I didn’t care much for the somewhat fruity burning on my lighty glossed lips and the punch it gave my stomach. Mrs Addair downstairs had told me it was an acquired taste one could get used to and that most Scotsmen practically grew up on whiskey before their mother’s own milk. The latter was of course an exaggeration, but there was truth to it, despite the fact that Mrs Addair had a tendency to exaggerate her tales. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t mind, though. Mrs Addair had been kind to me, ever since I first moved into the small one bedroom flat on Cockburn Street. It was nice to know at least one friendly face where otherwise there were only strangers. Solitude wasn’t something that ever bothered me and I enjoyed my own company. It was a welcome change from my previous situation and I really looked forward to exploring Edinburgh and all its ancient history. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>History was part of the reason why I’d chosen Edinburgh as my new home. My aunt Naomi spent many years of her life living and traveling in this ancient country. Throughout my childhood, she told me stories about highland games and histories of battles fought. Some of them lost, some of them won. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"There’s magic in the highlands</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she would say “</span>
  <em>
    <span>It existed long before people lived here and is as ancient as the soil on which we stand. The Scottish still respect that magic and we’d be wise to do the same. You’ll understand one day, when you go on your own journey</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wonder, back then, if she knew.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That Saturday afternoon marked my one month living in Edinburgh. I’d decided to make the most of the rare bit of pleasant warm weather and sunshine to go on a daytrip. I packed lightly; a camouflage colored satchel bag with a few necessities - snacks,  a book, notebook, headphones, my inhaler and some paracetamol. I pulled on my favourite pair of grey jeans, strapped on black hiking boots in case the weather betrayed us and a long sleeved blue shirt. For once, the weather was calm enough for me to untie my afro from its hair-bobble prison. It was early morning when I stepped on the tour bus and our journey to Midhope Castle would take about 2 hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, I know what you’re going to say: I chose Midhope Castle because I’m some obsessed fangirl who wanted to see the location where Outlander was shot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s not it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aunt Naomi was incredibly fond of those books and claimed it was because a long way back, that side of our family had a history with Midhope Castle. I don’t think we were related to the family who lived there, but apparently we did know them. It became Naomi’s key to Scotland and she spoke of it often. I suppose curiosity got the better of me and I wanted to see what the fuss was about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I moved to Scotland, Aunt Naomi gave me the book to take with me. I think she wanted to bring us closer and have some understanding of what it meant to her and our family. I decided to give it a go, because if anything it would make her happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wave of nausea hit me on the bus-journey and so I spent most of it with my head leaning against the window and my eyes fixed on the horizon moving past me. Autumn had arrived with a buoyant lack of subtly. I watched as the leaves danced from branch to ground, each a colour flag without strings on a pole, free to roam the world as they pleased. Aunt Naomi told me that sometimes, if you listened carefully, you could hear voices in the rustling of the leaves. Voices who carried with them echoes of the past as they traveled through uncertain futures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time we stepped off the bus, I was glad for me feet to be reunited with solid, unmoving ground. It took a few moments for my stomach to settle, but once it did I followed the small group tourists who walked the path up the estate we’d all come to admire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Admire was really the wrong word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Midhope Castle was a derelict chateau and a five-storied tower house. Perhaps once upon a time, its foundation stones would have held it up with more dignity and majesty than the ruins before me. Yet, its walls still stood somewhat resolute and had done so for many centuries. I wondered how many people had walked through those halls and if there was some truth to Aunt Naomi’s claim about our family. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We had two hours to explore Midhope before taking the bus to our next destination. It didn’t take long before I strayed from groups of giggling teenagers, families and middle-aged women who’d come to get a look at Jamie Fraser’s childhood home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, okay. I’d started reading the book, but I was only a few chapters in. Claire and Jamie had just left to find safety in Lallybroch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but I soon found myself past the tower house, following a path leading into the woods. Above me, grey clouds began to gather, prophesying rain to come and I cursed myself for jinxing it earlier. I cast an eye on my mobile phone and noted that I had just about 40 minutes before the bus would leave. I only want to take in the landscape around me. All my life, I’d been raised in a city and rarely ventured to the countryside except for school trips and the occasional camping holiday with my family,  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breathing in fresh air not tainted with the poison of exhaust fumes was a luxury I’d never take for granted again. Sure, Edinburgh was a city with all the modern troubles that came with it, but it also came with close accents to the highlands and all its natural treasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t quite sure how long I’d trekked into the woods, but soon I realised the path I was so sure to have followed actually had disappeared. That wasn’t the worst part of it all, though. What had begun as heavy raindrops soon turned in a full-blown storm. The wind pierced into my skin like sharp shards of broken glass and the rain penetrated into every bit of dry clothing I had. Soon after came rolling claps of thunder and bolts of lightning. I’d seen storms before, but nothing quite like this and I’ll be the first to admit that I was terrified. I turned around, intent on running back to Midhope and the bus, which surely must be urging the tour group to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I saw no path and I could have sworn the bushes were much thicker than before, as if they had suddenly grown where there previously had been a clear way back to the tower house.  In the panic that came with the realisation of being lost, I began to breathe more rapidly and I quickly searched through my satchel for my inhaler. It felt as if my lungs weren’t there as I tried to bring in air. My muscle strained and the thoughts in my head turned from fear to dizzy confusion. I reached for my inhaler and found it there, in the pocket where I always kept it, always ready to open me up and allow the air to flood in, letting my medicine attack the asthma. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’d only just put my lips around the mouth of the inhaler, when a cold sharp metal touched my skin. In the corner of my eyes I saw, I saw the bottom of a long red coat, violently fluttering in the wind and a pair of black military boots. I quickly inhaled two puffs of ventolin and let my satchel hang from my shoulder as I moved my hands to the side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would be wise to turn around, madame.” said an English voice, “So that I might understand why the devil an Aethiopian is on Scottish land. Without her owner, nonetheless?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trespass? Owner?” I echoed “Listen mate, I don’t think you---”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My words were cut off by my own surprise as I turned around and stared at the man in front of me. He was dressed exactly as an English redcoat soldier, down the hair tied in a ponytail with a black ribbon and a black tricorn hat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, if this is some attempt at historical roleplaying, you’re taking it a little far.” I said, “I’m not a slave, nor am I Aethiopian.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your master has not done a very good job at taming you,” said the soldier “Were you my slave, I’d make sure you were rightfully punished.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It surprised me that these actors were really going for the slavery plot. While I admired their dedication, I wasn’t impressed and made a note to make a complaint with the tour company. I could only assume they’d arrange this spectacle as a way to make this experience more authentic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you, I don’t have a master and I am not a slave.” I hissed “I don’t like where this is going, just take me back to the tour bus. I’m done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s done here?” scoffed the soldier “Do you hear that, Mr Turner. I do believe the Aethiopian was giving us orders. How do we like that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t, Sir.” said the man called Mr Turner, a young man perhaps in his early 20s, with blonde hair rather than the dark brown of his superior. “If she doesn’t have a master, as she claims, it would be in your right to punish her.”</span>
  <span>“Yes, Mr Turner. I do believe you’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man in front of me removed his blade from my neck and tightly grabbed my shoulder, but I instinctively pulled it away from him. I wasn’t enjoying myself anymore and the more I studied their actions, the more it felt like they didn’t think this was a roleplay at all. It didn’t make sense though, but that was the least of my problems. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let go of me!” I demanded </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re feisty one, aren’t you?” he scoffed “Don’t worry, this will only hurt a little.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t have a chance to say anything more, because before I knew it, something heavy hit the side of my head and the last thing I remember before I fell to the ground was the rustling of leaves around me and the sound of voices travelling with them. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lallybroch, late 1741 </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the smell of soup that forced my eyelids to open. At least, I thought it was soup or something that had the familiar scent of vegetable stock. The first thing I noticed around me were the dark walls and large windows, where the sunlight peered in. I was tucked beneath the sheets of a large wooden bed. Its mattress and pillows were soft and the sheets warm. Slowly, my vision cleared and I soon began to notice the details of the room I was in. The furniture was old, much like that you’d find in antique stores or historical homes. Slowly, I pushed myself up and leaned against the wooden headboard behind me and was instantly greeted by a banging headache. I touched the side of my head with my hand and noticed the rough surface of a scar. Almost instantly, a memory of the two men dressed as redcoat soldiers resurfaced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye,” said an unfamiliar voice that startled me. “A nasty injury like that will stay in your head for a while. If I were you, I’d be careful standing up. Soup should help, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned my glance to the woman in front of me. She had long, dark hair neatly tied up and wore a kilt-patterned skirt, along with a shirt and a grey bodice. Just like the soldiers in the woods, I couldn’t nudge the feeling that those clothes did not belong. The young woman must have noticed my unease and carefully walked towards me.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long was I out?” I asked “What day is it” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Monday morning.” the woman replied “You’ve been unconscious for two days. To be honest, we were getting rather worried about you. Thought you might die if the fever didn’t break, but like a miracle it did. You’re a lucky lass.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two days? How could I have been out cold for two days, when it felt like merely an hour ago, I’d been exploring the woods behind Midhope. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you ken where you are?” asked the woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ken? I’d heard that word before and a memory rang in the back of my mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ken is gaelic for know, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I recalled to myself. Scottish people still spoke Gaelic, but something about her accent was different and then there were her clothes. Was this just another part of the reenactment taken too far?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh...Midhope Castle?.” I guessed quietly “At least, that’s where I was when the storm hit..” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, it was quite the impressive storm..” the woman confirmed “But you’re wrong. This isn’t Midhope Castle. I’ve never heard of such a place. This is Lallybroch and I’m Jenny Murray.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jenny Murray? Lallybroch? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I must have slipped and hit my head on a rock or something, because this had to be a dream. Jenny Murray and Lallybroch didn’t exist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jenny Murray?” I asked “Are you sure?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jenny chuckled as she sat on the side of my be. “Well, I always wanted a different name when I was a wee girl, but we can’t help what our parents name us, can we? I’m the only Jenny Murray in these parts.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t know what to say. I was utterly at lost for words. I had to stop myself from bursting out that she couldn’t be Jenny Murray, because Jenny Murray was a fictional character who did not exist. Lallybroch was a fictional setting inspired by Midhope Castle. That was it. I figured I must have gotten lost when the storm hit, and hit my head on a thick root or rock after slipping on the mud. This was just an incredibly vivid dream. That was the only rational explanation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name then?” Jenny asked “If you don’t mind me saying so, we don’t often get people like you in these parts. I don’t want you to think I hold any prejudice, mind. Mother and father raised my brothers and I to think all people are equal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wondered what she meant at first, but then it hit me. The soldiers had been certain I was a slave on the run from her master and it was clear that this woman, Jenny Murray or not, was going along with the act. Something in her tone told me different though and as I considered the utter impossibility of what was happening to me, a shiver jolted down my spine like trickling electricity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.” Jenny said “Get some more rest, and then come and see me. I don’t know what on earth you were wearing when Murtagh found you, but we can’t have you parading around in those kinds of clothes here.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Murtagh?” I asked, although I knew the answer already. “Who is Murtagh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Murtagh Fraser is my brother’s godfather.” Jenny explained “Although, now that my brother and husband are away in France, Murtagh’s taken to staying here in Lallybroch. He found you in the woods and will be glad to know you’re alive.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a brother?” I asked</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye. Jamie is my older brother and Ian is my husband. Sadly, you won’t be able to meet them for quite a while, I should think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lallybroch. Murtagh. Jenny and Ian. Jamie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The realization hit me with a wave of nausea and before I knew it, I grabbed the side of the bed and threw up on the wooden floor beneath me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was in Outlander. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>To be continued….</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>
    <i>Ta-daaaa. An early update. I’m going to try to update weekly at least, or more often if I have inspiration. I hope you guys still like this fic and I’d love to know if you think my character’s actions are realistic and if I’m keeping the others in character too!</i>
  </b>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The First Month</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which a month has passed....</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>A/N:</b> Hello and welcome back! I’m thrilled to see you guys seem to be enjoying this fic so far! Also, (<b>spoiler alert for season 4</b>) I just watched the episode in Season 4 when Murtagh is reunited with Jamie and Claire. Not gonna lie, I cried like a baby. I’m already thinking about ideas on how to incorporate the later seasons to this fic. I don’t want to do a total rewrite, I want to make it my own and change things. I’ve already decided that when Claire returns to her world, something might happen with Jas and Murtagh. I have two ideas: </p><p>Either Jas and Murtagh return to Jas’ time and Murtagh has to settle there. </p><p>Jas stays behind in Lallybroch with Jenny and Ian. </p><p>Should Jas try to change the events of the series/books so that things won’t be too difficult for Jamie and Claire, but with consequences of their own. </p><p>I also had an idea that maybe this is Jamie and Murtagh in the future, telling the story to Jamie and Claire’s grandchildren or something along those lines. </p><p>Finally, I cannot for the life of me recall the name of Jenny and Ian’s housekeeper in Season 1? Help!</p><p>What do you think? I’d love to hear your opinions. Now, with the blabbering out of the way, please enjoy this chapter! </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter Three </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The First Month </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Murtagh’s POV </b>
</p><p>
  <span>A fortnight passed and the lass I found past the estate still hadn’t spoken a word. Jenny explained that they’d exchanged a few sentences and asked if the lass kent where she was. According to Jenny, the lass thought she was somewhere called Midhope Castle, but far as I was aware, no such place existed. Nothing more since then. Jenny figured it was the shock of it all that caused her to remain silent, but I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first few days, Jasmine refused to leave her room. It wasn’t until Jenny promptly pointed out that she ought to have a bath, that she agreed to step over the threshold. I was there when she did and I saw the look in her eyes when her gaze traced every corner of Lallybroch. I’d seen that look many times before, in both men and women, upon receiving news they did not wish to hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Disbelief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ve never been the sort of man who stuck his nose in the business of others, usually, and perhaps it was best of me to leave the matter be. Yet, a strange feeling began to shape in the pit of my stomach. Sure enough, sometimes outlanders passed through our part of the highlands, but they always had a destination and a purpose for their journey. Then there was her accent, which Jenny found strange and couldn’t place. She explained that she’d heard a hint of English, but every now and again she also sounded like someone who had spent time in the colonies. If so, what was she doing on her own in Scotland? Did she have a family looking for her or was she alone?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>During that first week, Jasmine didn’t leave Lallybroch. In fact, she barely left the front yard and I knew why. It was rare to see people like her in our parts and the villagers of Broch Mordha made that very obvious. Some lads visiting Lallybroch had made rude remarks, which Jenny was quick to shut down. She told them that if they weren’t going to be respectful towards our guests, there’d be no business done between them and the estate. Any man worth his salt would respect Jenny Murray’s words and so they did. If not, I’d have had a thing or two to say. On the second week of Jasmine’s stay with us, Jenny brought her along for some errands in Broch Mordha and when they came, the poor lass’ face was pale and when I looked to Jenny for answers, she merely sighed and shook her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Improvements were made on the third week. I watched Jasmine play with wee Jamie who seemed to have taken a liking to her. It pleased Jenny to not always watch her son and I think both of us hoped, perhaps Jamie might be a reason for her to speak again. At first, I thought perhaps the lad might be a little frightened of her lack of words, but Jamie accepted her as a friend without doubt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Personally, I never understood the minds of those who did not like people like her. I figured it all came down to fear of anything stranger than what they were used to. As far as I was concerned, Jasmine was no different than any Tom, Dick or Harry that might walk through our doors. The only time I treated a person less than their worth was if they wounded a woman’s honor, broke his word or committed awful acts. I couldn’t say I’d always been a lawful man, but I kept my word and protected those I called friends and family. I’d wondered if Jenny would start asking around in the village or send around word to find out if Jasmine did have a family looking for her, but she didn’t. Truthfully, I think she was grateful for the company with both Ian and Jamie in France. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the fourth week of Jasmine’s stay in Lallybroch, I walked through the halls of Broch Tuarach making sure everything was safe. I didn’t doubt the fact that Jenny was a woman more than capable of defending herself, but for my own peace of mind I wanted to make sure. I knew both Ian and Jamie would be grateful for it and I’d never forgive myself if something were to happen to them on my watch. That night was quiet and there hadn’t been bad weather like that night in the woods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had just begun to walk down the stairs when I heard it. Jasmine screamed as though her very spirited need to break loose from her skin, desperate to release itself upon the world. It didn’t take long before the echoing sound of Jenny’s footsteps reached me, but when our eyes met I shook my head at her. I feared if two people approached the lass at the same time, it may do more harm than good. Jenny remained on the landing, while I carefully walked towards the bedroom. I pushed the door open and found Jasmine sobbing hysterically, but the moment I looked at her, I kent she was dreaming, or a nightmare by the sounds of it. She violently kicked the covers off her and turned around in her bed, as if she was fighting someone. I reached down to wake Jasmine from her terror, but as I placed my hand on shoulder, she shot up from the bed with wide eyes and frantically looked around her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, lass.” I assured her “You were having a nightmare.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jasmine began to sob and to my surprise, she leant her head against my shoulders, almost immediately soaking them with tears. I turned to Jenny who stood in the doorway, hoping that maybe she would come and take over. Instead, she shook her head and nodded at the lass in arms and so I knew the only thing I could do was provide her with some sort of comfort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dinna  ken if you’re not speaking because you suddenly can’t, or because you don’t want to.” Murtagh said “Whichever it is, it does make me wonder what really happened to ye, that night in the woods. I do know this past month has been difficult for ye and I dinna ken if it’s much comfort to ye, but I want you to know you can trust me. I found you and as such it’s my duty to make sure nothing happens to you while you’re here, however long that may be. I promise.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lass didn’t say anything and I wondered if, in her shaken state, she even understood my words. I had meant every word of it, even though at the time, I didn’t</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>A few days passed and the lass seemed to have recovered from her nightmares. Instead of remaining isolated in her room, Jasmine spent more time on the grounds, helping both Jenny and the housekeeper with chores. Sometimes, I caught her sitting in the grass with some sort of book in her lap and a piece of charcoal in her hands, sketching. Even regular visitors to Lallybroch eventually stopped commenting and just accepted that she was there, no matter how strange it may seem. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That afternoon, I came back from a quick visit from Broch Mordha and unsaddled my horse when I looked up and saw Jasmine walking towards me from the house. Ever since I found her, she had barely interacted with me and so it surprised me to see her walking towards me with purpose and I wondered why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jenny wanted to ask if you’d be willing to help collecting rent from the tenants tonight.” she said “She said Ian usually does it, but she could do with an extra hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re  speaking now, is it?” I jested “I was beginning to think the cat got yer tongue.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A slight chuckle escaped her lips and I was glad to see a personality take shape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to say thank you,” Jasmine said “For the other night, when you woke me up from that dream and for what you said after. I want you to know that I really appreciate it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You remember?” I asked surprised “I thought perhaps you were still asleep.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uhm...I haven’t meant to be difficult, this past month.” she said “Everything’s just been so...new and unexpected. I’m a very long way from home and I’m not sure how I got here in the first place or how I can get back. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can get back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have anyone waiting for ye, at home?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lass shook her head and I regretted asking. I saw sadness in her eyes and as she sighed, I felt a right fool for bringing up something hurtful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Not anymore.” she replied  “I have a feeling I have to make this my home, for the time being.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I hope ye know you’re welcome here.” I assured her “Besides, Jenny will be glad to have another woman to speak with. I’m not much good for that, ye ken?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From what I’ve gathered, you’re a good friend to Jenny. I’m sure she’s grateful for your help while her husband is away.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded. Ian was my friend as well and even though I was a godfather to Jamie, it was also my job to look after Jenny while they were both. We all knew Jenny Murray was a strong woman, but Ian would have my head if I left her alone in Lallybroch. Besides, it was my home too and it was nice to be rooted somewhere, if only for a while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, I’ve been a part of this family for a long time.” I explained “Jenny’s parents made me the godfather of their son.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jamie, right?” Jasmine guessed “Jenny said both he and Ian are away in France.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, so ye do pay attention?” I chuckled “I have to be careful what I say around ye then, wouldn’a want you getting the wrong impression. Tell Jenny I’ll help with the rent collection.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jasmine nodded and returned to the house, while I stood there and pondered the words she’d spoken about not being able to go home. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <b>
    <em>Late 1770s </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s enough story for tonight, lad. It’s getting late.”</span>
  <span>Jemmy crossed his arms and pouted, professing his instant unhappiness over his grandfather’s decision. After all, it had only just begun getting interesting and he was desperate to find out more. Jamie recognised the look of excitement in his grandson’s eyes, because it was one they both shared.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Jemmy protested “Can’t you tell me just a bit more, I promise I’ll sleep right away afterwards!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ye know what they say, lad.” Jamie said “Good things to those who wait. I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow night. Now come on, get under your sheet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jemmy huffed and reluctantly did as he was told. Though, as was usually the case, once he was comfortable tucked between the sheet and rested his head on the soft pillow, a yawn escaped his lips. Jamie sat on the edge of the bed, made sure the sheet was neatly tucked over his grandson’s shoulder and stroked his hair. Some days, it was still hard to believe that after everything they’d been through, he was blessed to have a family of his own. There was so much of Brianna in Jemmy, but he also saw bits of himself in the young lad. At almost ten years old, he’d grown up to become a headstrong boy, just like Jamie himself had been at that age. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grandpa, is this story true?” Jemmy asked “Did it really happen as you’ve told me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jamie chuckled.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye,</span>
  <em>
    <span> mo chridhe</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” he replied “Every word of it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were there for all of it?” Jemmy wondered as he stifled another yawn and rubbed his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Jamie shook his head “Not all of it, but most of it.”</span>
  <span>“I can’t wait to hear the rest. Goodnight, grandpa.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight Jeremiah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t take long before Jemmy was fast asleep. Jamie blew out the candle and lingered a bit in the doorway. He’d told his grandson the truth - every word of the story had happened, but it had been a long time since he recounted it and it brought up a lot of memories, long since forgotten in the neverending whirlpool of time. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>To be continued….</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>There we are!</b>
</p><p>
  <b>I enjoyed writing this chapter and I think I’ll stick with Jamie telling this story to his grandson. What did you think? Leave a comment!</b>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Promise: Trailer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I thought it would be fun to get a glimpse of what this series has in store.....</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: This isn't so much a chapter, as a trailer of what's to come made out of bits and pieces that I've written as "outtakes". I hope you'll enjoy....</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>A PROMISE - An Outlander Romance </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~*~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Grandpa, can you tell me a story?” Jemmy asked “Please. It’s not quite bedtime yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose yer right, lad.” Jamie agreed “What story would you like to hear?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jemmy clung onto his grandfather’s shoulder and held on tightly with both arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of your adventures! Something exciting! With battles!” he cried out excitedly “And magic!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What &lt;bout romance?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jemmy pouted as Jamie lifted him from his shoulder onto his lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ew, must it have romance?” asked the child </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All the best stories have romance, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mo cridhe</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Jamie chuckled “I know just the one to tell you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~*~*~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It should all have been a dream. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m like </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” I said “Except, I was born in 1989 and I came here from the year 2020. I moved to Scotland not long ago for work and went on a day-trip to get out of the city a bit. I wanted to visit Midhope Castle, to see where they shot Outlander.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Outlander?” Claire asked “What’s that?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I exhaled and leaned back in my chair, wondering how to explain something so impossible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Claire, where I’m from, none of this is real.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A terribly vivid dream, where I could taste the salt of the raindrops on my tongue and the wind of the Scottish Highlands.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re going away?” I asked “How long for?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dinna ken.” Murtagh replied “Could be a few weeks, or months. Jamie is coming back from France and long ago, I vowed to his mother that I would follow him wherever he goes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t know why it surprised me so much, I’d known this moment would come. Yet, I still stared at Murtagh in disbelief. For the past few months, he’d become a friend and somebody I could rely on. Not that I wasn’t happy here with Jenny, but it still wasn’t the same. I knew Murtagh would come back, but I couldn’t help but wonder if my presence here had somehow changed things? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be strange not having your grumpy face here, all the time.” I said, in a poor attempt to joke.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grumpy, ye say? I’ll show ye grumpy! Come here!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I could escape, Murtagh grabbed me by the waist and picked me up over his shoulder.  Even though I protested loudly, in my heart, I had no will to protest at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks and before I knew it, I had made 18th century Scotland my home…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“And...who is this?” Jamie asked </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Jasmine.” Jenny explained “She’s our guest and has been for just over a year now,, isn’t that so Murtagh?.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, and quite the mystery she is.” Murtagh said “Why don’t you tell Claire and Jamie your story?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~*~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I had friends, family and a man who would come to mean more than words could ever explain. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>understand </span>
  </em>
  <span>that you told Claire and Jamie before telling </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Murtagh yelled as he marched up to me, with more anger in his eyes than I had ever seen before and it scared me. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do not understand</span>
  </em>
  <span> how you could tell Jenny and Ian and then hide the truth from </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Do ye not remember my promise to you that first month in Lallybroch? I </span>
  <em>
    <span>swore an oath</span>
  </em>
  <span> to look after you, because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>you were a long way from home. Somehow, I could feel it. I promised to keep you safe, because I felt responsible for you. I knew you were lonely so I thought you could use a friend. ” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Friends?” I asked “Is that </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>you think we are?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I clearly dinnae ken what to think anymore and </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>the person I thought you were!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~*~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But as with all dreams…..</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“We </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to tell her, Claire.” I urged “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Both</span>
  </em>
  <span> of them actually. Jenny and Ian have a right to know, they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I know I promised I wouldn’t divulge too much of what I know and I don’t even know if those things will happen now because </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>here, but it will make it easier for you and Jamie.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Murtagh? Will you tell him as well?” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~*~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eventually...they too have to end… </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"I release you from it." Jamie said </span>
</p><p><span>"I will come back to you,</span> <em><span>mo leannan</span></em><span>." Murtagh whispered as he leant his forehead against mine and ran his fingers through my hair.  "I swear it." </span></p><p>
  <span>"You'd better, Murtagh Fitzgibbons." I said "Or I'll never forgive you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go, please." Jamie begged with tears in his eyes "Be hard to find."</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And some battles you thought you could avoid….</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?!” I yelled “I’m not the one with a mind to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>any person who looks at me twice!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dinna ken the exact meaning of that word, but I get the sentiments well enough!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~*~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Will have to be fought all over again….</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You cannot go out onto that battlefield!” I yelled </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You may ken the future, lass!” Murtagh said “But I am in charge of my fate in the present! You will not stop me from fighting this war!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what will I do if you won’t come back?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t ye ken by now, lass?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>A cheeky  grin tugged at Murtagh’s lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll always come back for ye.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Planning for the future</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Jasmine contemplates what to do....</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>A/N:</b> What do you know! Another chapter! This always happens when I fall in love with a fandom! I’m going to try and update as frequently as possible before NaNoWriMo kicks off!  I also realised I’ve done my timing wrong, I said before it was 1740 or 1741 when Jasmine arrives in Lallybroch, but I’ve decided that she arrives a few months before New Years Eve 1742/1743 and so she still stays a year before Claire and Jamie arrive. I’m going to do what they do in the show and kind of fast-forward the year and explain what happens in a monologue rather than having it chapter by chapter because this fic will be long enough as it is. I hope that’s okay with you guys!</p><p>(<b>Season 5 spoilers!!!</b>), I’ve just seen the episode where Murtagh and Jamie say goodbye because Jamie has to hunt him. These past two seasons have been an emotional rollercoaster MY GOD. </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter Four</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Planning for the future </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Late 1742...</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It should all have been a dream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An impossible, vivid dream where I could taste the salt of the raindrops on my tongue and feel the sharp highland wind biting into my skin. The more I began to question my own sanity and ponder whether or not I’d finally had a nervous breakdown or perhaps hit my head on something sharp, the more I realised I had to face the inevitable truth: not only had I travelled nearly 300 years into the past, but I was also in a place with people whom up until then I had believed to be fiction. How was it possible that Jenny Murray and Murtagh Fitzgibbons were real people? Had they always been real people, somehow forgotten by the passing of time? Or had Diana Gabaldon somehow channeled some kind of strong magic, which made her characters actually come to life? Had I perhaps travelled through a wormhole into an entirely different dimension? It was impossible to know for certain and the more questions I asked myself, the more I realised I would never find the answer. All I could do was to accept the impossible - that I was here.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hours turned to day, days turned to weeks and eventually months. It wasn’t easy settling into life in Lallybroch, but I was grateful to the kindness of Jenny who had simply accepted my presence without question. Those first few days had been the hardest, as I tried to come to terms with my newfound reality. Despite not knowing how I had come here in the first, there were a few things I did no. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Firstly, it was late 1742 and soon to be Christmas. In little over a year, Claire Randall and Jamie Fraser would arrive at Lallybroch. I wasn’t sure when exactly, because truthfully I’d only watched the show and had just begun reading the book. I know the two differ rather a lot and I had no idea which version of events I found myself in. I don’t know if it was by coincidence or fate that I’d been carrying the first Outlander book in my satchel bag, that day at Midhope Castle. I knew I couldn’t be seen carrying, let alone reading a book portraying events of the future. The belief in witchcraft was strong in 18th century Britain and with that knowledge, I knew there were other parts of my own belief and personality that I had to be careful to divulge. I found a loose floorboard in the corner of my room and hid the book, as well as some of my more personal belongings within it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Secondly, and this was something constantly on my mind, by the time Claire and Jamie were destined to arrive in Lallybroch, I wondered if I could go with them. I enjoyed the safety of Lallybroch for the time being, but Claire was like me - a time traveller. If anyone was to believe my story, it would be her. I had to tell her everything and perhaps, by staying with her and Jamie, I could find my way home. The strange thing was, Claire always used the stones at Craigh Na Dun to travel, but I hadn’t. When the storm hit at Midhope Castle, it was almost as if I’d simply stepped over a threshold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thirdly, another thing that troubled my mind, was the matter of why I’d been sent here? In the books and series, it became obvious that Claire was chosen for the stones to try and stop the future events of Culloden and to find Jamie. Was my coming here a total accident or had I also been chosen for a reason? Claire had knowledge of historical events up to 1968, but I knew the future past that date and perhaps more importantly - I knew the future events of the show. At least up until a certain point, but it had been a while since I watched it and I couldn’t remember everything in perfect detail. With that in mind, how could I be sure that my presence here wouldn’t alter the turn of events as I knew it? Could I change things or would they happen anyway? These were all things I knew I needed to speak with Claire about, as well as my final point. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Since I was a young child, I’ve been asthmatic. It’s always been manageable with regular medication and I always keep my inhalers with me. Eventually, I am going to run out and the last time I ran out of asthma meds, I nearly died. Truthfully, that’s an experience I would rather avoid as much as possible and I knew that Claire would understand. As far as I was aware, the general use of asthma inhalers became available ca 1950 and being a doctor,...nurse at this point in time...I was certain she would know remedies for medication without inhalers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patience had never been a virtue of mine, but I knew I had to give into it and simply stay put in Lallybroch until Claire and Jamie eventually arrived. Having spent the past few months at the estate and with Jenny as well as Mrs Crook, gave me a good insight into life in 1740. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t difficult in more ways than one. The first time Jenny and I went to Broch Mordha was a shock, even though I knew that people of color were treated as less than second class citizens. I’d experienced similar things during my time teaching English as a foreign language abroad, in homogenous countries where people of colour were rarely seen. My presence in Broch Mordha had been met with equal parts fascination and fear. Highlanders in general seemed to be more accepting of people from all walks of life, but to them I was still a stranger from a very distant land. I couldn’t possibly explain that in my time, it was common for men and women to marry, regardless of their ethnicity and to have children. In this time, someone like me was considered a bastard and had no bearings in the world. If I didn’t have the kindness of Jenny to rely on, my current situation would be entirely different and for that I would always be grateful. Although, I did gather the talk of the village was that Jenny Murray had come in the possession of a slave-girl to help her while her husband was away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something that surprised me more than I thought it would, was the fact that Jenny’s personality matched the portrayal I was used to. She was incredibly kind, but also equally forthright and would not taken nonsense from anyone, be it man or woman. The people of Broch Mordha and around the estate respected her and not only because her family owned the land. It was easy to like Jenny and honestly, it was a relief to have somebody to speak with without judgement. During the evenings, after wee Jamie went to bed we often sat by the fireplace, each of us with a glass of whiskey in our hand. Jenny often knitted something and I continued with my sketches and writing. I couldn’t exactly use my phone for photographs and if I ever did return home, I wanted to remember Lallybroch and its people. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Then, of course, there was Murtagh, another person who continued to surprise me. I’d always seen him as somebody whose life experience had hardened him over the years. Sure, some of that was true and I knew he was not a man I ever wanted to cross. Murtagh was tough, always spoke his mind and never strayed from his opinion. He was a man of honor and with a code he followed to a tee. Yet, the Murtagh I had come to know over the past few months was also a man with a kind heart and a strong moral compass. After he found me that day in the woods, he had no reason to keep me company and had no obligation towards me. At least, that was my opinion, but Murtagh saw it differently. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>because </span>
  </em>
  <span>he found me that he felt responsible. No matter how much I told him otherwise, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and claimed that I’d do well to keep him around, if anything for my protection. I gave in eventually and considering how people took the news of my presence in Lallybroch, his protection was indeed welcome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Jenny and Murtagh were equally surprised that I knew little about how 18th century technology worked. I knew the 18th century marked the beginning of what would become known as the first industrial revolution. Eventually, steam engines would come to replace animal labor as well as human labor. I think Jenny was careful to not have me fall into a habit of helping with chores, because of how it would look, but I did want to help as much as I could. It was the least I could, but most of my time was spent playing with wee Jamie. I certainly didn’t mind, I’d always liked children and wee Jamie was as lively as you would expect. It became a good way to occupy my time and brought me plenty of joy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I still couldn’t remember exactly what happened to me the day I met the redcoats. Part of me wondered if my mind decided to push that memory far away and while I didn’t mind for the moment, I couldn’t help but think about what might happen when it eventually resurfaced. I was grateful to Murtagh for waking me up instead of letting me suffer in that horrendous and nightmarish dreamscape. At bedtime, I spent most nights carefully trying to read and catch up on what was happening in the book. There was no telling what would happen to me while waiting for Jamie and Claire to arrive because it wasn’t written down anywhere. Reading by candle-light was difficult and I didn’t want to draw too much attention to myself, so I hadn’t got very far. So far, Claire had only just arrived in Castle Leoch after travelling with Dougal MacKenzie, Jamie, Murtagh and the others. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>As weeks and months passed, so did the seasons and it wasn’t long before winter came to Lallybroch. It would have been my first winter in Scotland in Edinburgh as well. Jenny explained that if Ian wasn’t away, they would normally make a big thing of the celebrations, but this year she had decided to keep it in the family. That meant it would be me, wee Jamie, Murtagh, Jenny and a Mr Ned Gowan who was passing by and didn’t have a family of his own to spend the holidays with. Obviously, I knew who Ned was and I was glad to see that was just as kind a man in person. I didn’t mind a quiet Christmas and it was nice to not have to be alone and considering the circumstances, it was probably for the better. Besides, it wasn’t every day that I got to experience an 18th century Christmas with goose and plum pudding. Even though gifts were still traditional, Jenny decided to pass on that particular tradition this year, except for wee Jamie of course who adored the attention. Jenny believed gifts were more fun when all the family were gathered and I honestly was kind of glad because I had no gifts to give and no way to thank Jenny and Murtagh for all they’d done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mistress Jasmine, might I have a moment of your time?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was sometime past Christmas dinner and we’d all retired to let the food digest in our stomach. I sat on the top stair case, with a mug of tea next to me and my sketchbook in my hand, when the sound of Murtagh’s voice and footsteps reached my ear. I moved over on the landing and the dark-haired highlander sat down next to me, holding his hands behind his back. I studied him for a moment and noticed that his eyes kept flickering and he nervously tapped with his foot. It wasn’t like Murtagh Fitzgibbons to be nervous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is everything alright? Also, did we not agree that you wouldn’t call me Mistress? It’s way too proper. Jasmine will do.” I asked “Is the tapping because of too much sherry?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A slight chuckle escaped Murtagh’s lips and as he laughed, his cheekbones became more prominent. Usually, his long chestnut hair cascaded down his broad shoulders, but for the occasion, it was tied up in a ponytail. I also noticed his beard was a bit more groomed than usual and his face less covered in dust.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know Jenny said no gifts, but I couldn’t help but notice that you’re running out of pages in that book of yours.” Murtagh explained “So, I wanted to give you this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watched as Murtagh passed me what he’d been hiding. A beautiful leather bound book with parchment paper inside it. He was right, my journal would run out pages soon because I used it for drawing as well as writing. Even in my time, leather was incredibly expensive and I dreaded to think what antiquarians might say if they saw a leatherbound book made by someone’s own hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a leather journal, made by father, but he never used it.” Murtagh explained “I don’t ken ye too well, lass, but I have noticed you spend a lot of time with your head in that book of yours. I reckon it contains memories and things from your home. I thought perhaps, if those are too painful to think about, maybe you can write or draw new memories in this book.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Murtagh, this is absolutely beautiful, but I can’t possibly accept this.” I whispered, “Like you said, it was made by your father. Shouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>have it, or someone in your family?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murtagh shook his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not much of a scribe, ye ken?” he said, still with that smile on his face “My father is no longer alive and other than Jenny, my only family are away in France. I want </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>to have it, lass and I would’na have given it to ye, if I wasn’a sure. Besides, I’ll be offended if you don’t accept it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I admitted defeat and accepted the gift. As we both got back up on our feet, I gave Murtagh a hug and while he seemed surprised at first, he accepted the hug and exhaled a relieved sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” I said “Truly, you’ve been a good friend to me while I’ve been here and I don’t know how I can ever repay you and Jenny.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Och</span>
  </em>
  <span>, there’s no need to thank us, lass.” Murtagh assured me “Having you here has been a </span>
  <em>
    <span>blessing </span>
  </em>
  <span>to Jenny, as well as I. I reckon were it just the two of us, some blood may have been spilled before Ian’s return, ye ken?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but laugh, because I knew all too well it was true. Murtagh loved Jenny like a niece, but I had heard them argue many times of a difference in opinion. It usually ended with either one of them storming out, then coming back later to apologise. Oftentimes it was Murtagh who came with the apology. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We bid each other good night and I went to bed, anxious to find out what fate had in store for Claire and Jamie in Castle Leoch, </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>After Christmas came New Year’s Eve and 1742 became 1743. It was strange to think I’d spent six month in Lallybroch and even stranger that it was normal. I had accepted it as my home for the timing being and once I’d done that, I found it easier to settle. The more I went into Broch Mordha with Jenny, the less prejudice I faced from the villagers and they got used to me. They knew I wasn’t a slave as the rumour said. I knew I had to make the most of my time in Lallybroch in the next few months and make sure to spend time with Jenny, because I knew that if I followed Jamie and Claire, I wouldn’t get to see her too often.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometime in spring, I was walking back to the estate with wee Jamie and as he ran towards Mrs Crook in the garden, I saw Murtagh in the corner of my eye. Over the past few months since Christmas, Murtagh and I spent more time together and became friends. Oftentimes, I would sit on a patch of grass outside, drawing or writing and Murtagh would lay on his back in the grass, with his feet placed on an ancient tree while smoking a pipe. Those comfortable silence became a strange bit of sanctuary for me and away from the house, I think both of us felt we could be just as we were, without having to change or adjust. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I knew that when Jamie, Claire and Murtagh were in France, they told him the truth about Claire and he accepted it. A part of me wondered if he would accept the same truth if it came from my mouth or if he would discard it as lunacy. Either way, I was happy to be Murtagh’s friend and I didn’t want to change that by making the wrong choice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going away?” I asked, but truthfully it was more of a statement rather than a question “How long for?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dinna ken, lass.” Murtagh replied as he did up the girth and gave his horse a pat.  “Could be a few weeks, or months. Jamie is coming back from France and long ago, I vowed to his mother that I would follow him wherever he goes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t know why it surprised me so much, I’d known this moment would come. Yet, I still stared at Murtagh in disbelief. For the past few months, he’d become a friend and somebody I could rely on. Not that I wasn’t happy here with Jenny, but it still wasn’t the same. I knew Murtagh would come back, but I couldn’t help but wonder if my presence here had somehow changed things? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be strange not having your grumpy face here, all the time.” I said, in a poor attempt to joke.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grumpy, ye say? I’ll show ye grumpy, lass.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murtagh’s eyebrows furrowed and for a split second I saw a glint of mischief in his eyes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I could escape, Murtagh grabbed me by the waist and picked me up over his shoulder.  Even though I protested loudly, somehow, I had no will to protest at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let go of me, Murtagh Fitzgibbons!” I half-laughed and half-shouted  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, but you called me grumpy lass and ye ken what happens next?” he asked “You get to pay for that com--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The perks of only being 5”2 is that sometimes, it gave you an advantage. In the middle of Murtagh’s sentence, I saw my chance and managed to elbow him so that he was forced to let go off me and so we both fell to the ground. I knew I had to be quick and so, I got back up on my feet and ran for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why ye little weasel!” Murtagh called after me </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned around and saw him running after me. Logically, I knew he was faster than I was and would catch up on me eventually. I ran up a path and came to a small clearing in the woods and when I turned around, I couldn’t see Murtagh anywhere nor was there the sound of footsteps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell…?” I whispered and suddenly got nervous. “Murtagh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It happened so quickly and caught me totally off guard. One of Murtagh’s hands grabbed me by the waist and the other my hand, but he had forgotten about my feet. I used my left foot and kicked his, knowing that because he believed he’d won, his stance would be more relaxed. I’d miscalculated my move though, because as Murtagh lost his balance, his grip was still on me and so I fell backwards as he fell on top me. We landed with an oomph and burst out laughing like a couple of idiots high on some sort of street-drug. I exhaled a breath, feeling a little more exhausted than I thought, but happy nonetheless. I’d be sad to see Murtagh leave, but I knew he had to and that he would come back. To my surprise, Murtagh didn’t move off me, instead he remained there and I felt the beat of his heart against my chest, increasing ever so slightly as he looked at me. His hand moved to my hair and gently tousled my afro-curls, and strangely enough I found that I didn’t mind.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It won’t be the same here without you.” I confessed, “I’m so used to having both you and Jenny around. “</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll still have Jenny.” Murtagh said “And Mrs Crook, let’s not forget, I’ve never seen her dote on somebody as much as you.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jenny said that she has a daughter around my age, but she’s married and lives in Edinburgh now, so any chance she gets to be a mother again, she’ll take. I don’t mind it, honestly. It’s kinda sweet really.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murtagh was lost in thought as he stroked my hair, while his other hand measured the difference in size between his hand and mind. Suddenly, somewhere in the distance a voice called out something in Gaelic, but I knew they called out to Murtagh. The highlander snapped out of his own thoughts, pulled me back up on my feet and we walked back to the house together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be careful, yeah?” I told him “How will I survive if you don’t come back?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murtagh mounted the horse and turned to me, with kindness in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll come back for ye, lass.” he said “I promised to look after ye, while yer here and that’s a promise I intend to keep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jenny and wee Jamie both came out to bid Murtagh goodbye and as I watched him ride out past the entrance of Lallybroch, a knot began to take shape in my stomach and I couldn’t help but worry that maybe I’d got it all wrong and things wouldn’t turn out as they’d been written or played out in the show. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll be back, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mo cridhe</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Mrs Crook assured me “That one always does.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye,” Jenny agreed and hooked my arm. “I’ve known Murtagh my whole life and he’d sooner rather die than break a promise. Especially not to a lass who has his heart.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My cheeks turned read with heat and Jenny laughed when she saw the embarrassment in my eyes. I hoped she was right, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t know at the time how things would be. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>To be continued……</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b><br/>    <i>Whoa! That turned out to be a much longer chapter than I’d planned! I hope you’re still enjoying it! How do you feel about the character interactions and Jasmine’s personality? The last thing I want is for her to become a Mary-Sue. Don’t worry, by the way, Murtagh and Jasmine won’t have it that easy, it’ll take time before something happens between them. Leave a comment/kudos!</i><br/>  </b>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. On the Road...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Murtagh travels with Dougal and his men....</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>A/N:</b> Hello again! Daily updates probably won’t be a thing forever, but I’m running with it so long as I have the energy! I’m excited you guys are enjoying it so far! I’ve come up with Jasmine’s backstory and I’m so PSYCHED to reveal it as the story goes on. I’d love to know if there are things you’d like to read and things you’d like to happen between the different characters. I am taking requests for plot ideas or scenes you want to see :)  Also, in the series I think it’s briefly mentioned that Murtagh goes with Jamie to France before Claire appears, but I’ve changed it so that Jamie asked him to stay in Lallybroch to protect Jenny.</p><p>This is a shorter chapter and just a quick insight into Murtagh’s mind. </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter Five</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>On the Road</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’d left Lallybroch plenty of times before, but this time it was more difficult. If it weren’t for my promise Ellen, I would probably have stayed. Family before everything, was a motto I had always lived by and didn’t plan on changing it. I was sure being a mercenary in France along with Ian had taught Jamie a great deal about the world, but that didn’t mean the lad still didn’t possess a penchant for trouble. Once upon a time, his mother had been the great love of my life, even though I respected her marriage to Brian. Years after her death, my feelings remained unchanged and I was certain they would stay that way. Now, I wasn’t so sure anymore and as I left the boundaries of Lallybroch behind me, my heart ached. A part of me wished I could stay in that meadow with Jasmine, listening to her heartbeat and playing with her hair, but I couldn’t break my promise. Still, my mind lingered on her and I wondered how long it would be until I would get to see her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was, assuming she decided to stay in Lallybroch. Logically, I kent she had no reason to stay and could have left anytime she wanted to, but after a year she was still in Lallybroch. Perhaps it was selfish of me to wish she would stay. Even though she told me that she didn’t have family, she could still have other people who cared about her and perhaps loved her. I kent that jealousy was a sin and that I ought to be ashamed of myself, because Jasmine didn’t belong to anyone. If she couldn’t remember what happened to her before I found her in the woods, was there a possibility that she might not remember a lover or even a husband.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yer far away, Murtagh Fitzgibbons…” came Dougal MacKenzie’s voice “What or </span>
  <em>
    <span>who </span>
  </em>
  <span>occupies yer mind?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chuckled spread across the camp and a somewhat annoyed sigh escaped my lips. I turned my eyes to Jamie, who only shrugged as he ate from the stew cooked by rupert. It was good to see my godson in good health and neither he nor Ian were bringing back a dead body to bury. Jenny would not have been best pleased, but luckily we had avoided her wrath. Traveling with Dougal and his men, wasn’t something I was too keen on doing for too long, but I kent that we would eventually go to Castle Leoch, where Colum was in charge. I much preferred Colum to his brother and as a person, he was much more agreeable. Dougal had always been rash and acted without considering the consequences of his choices. Now, I ken I have not been a perfect man and I’ve also made many mistakes, but I have atoned for almost all of them. I’d never seen Dougal as a man who regretted his actions, even if they hurt others. Luckily, for his sake, he had never hurt Jamie. The time my godson spent with his uncle had been good for him and he learnt a thing or two about becoming a man. Dougal loved Jamie as much as I did, there was no doubt about that, but I also didn’t doubt that should Jamie ever cross his uncle, it would cost him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard a rumor all the way from Broch Mordha,” came Angus Mohr’s drunken voice, “That our Murtagh has been enchanted by an Aethiopian witch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within a second, I’d shot up from my seat and shot out my hand towards Angus. I grabbed his through and pushed him against the closest tree. Complete silence fell on the camp and all eyes were on us now, but I didn’t care. I reached for my sgian-dubh and purposely pressed it against Angus’ trousers. I heard a gasp somewhere around me, and I saw the look on Angus’ now red face as he felt the sharp edge of the blade against his manhood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you ever talk about her like that or mention her </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>again, Angus.” I hissed into his ear “I’ll make sure you’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>be able to lay with a woman again. Are we clear, lad?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angus shook his head nervously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” I said and removed my knife. “I’m glad we understand each other.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I released my grip around Angus’ throat and the young lad fell to his knees, coughing violently for a few moments as one of his friends helped him. I caught Jamie grinning in the corner of my eyes and I kent that I would have some explaining to do when we had a moment to ourselves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, so it’s true, then?” Dougal chuckled, “Ye love her?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see how my private affairs are any business of yours, Dougal Mackenzie?” I asked as I leaned back against a tree and reached for my leather whisky pouch  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only, it seems a tad strange to me that a man would get so defensive, if his feelings for her were not reciprocated. Does she feel that same way?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dinna ken. We have’na exactly had a chance to speak about it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jamie moved from his corner and sat next to me by the fire, taking the pouch from me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you’re telling me.” Jamie teased “That you’re in love with a lass, and you left Lallybroch without confessing these feelings to her? How can you be so sure that she’ll still feel the same when you return?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I closed my eyes and inhaled a strained breath, wondering if there was still time to bring back a dead body to Lallybroch after all. Perhaps I did feel something for Jasmine that I wasn’t willing to admit to myself. Since Ellen’s death, I’d been a man of solitude and had never craved the company of others. I liked my own company just fine, but every time I closed my eyes I saw her wide smile, which made her dimples more prominent. Back at the meadow, when the sunlight caught her eyes, the hazelnut shade made them glisten like starlight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t be sure,” I admitted, “But who am I to deny her happiness if she finds it in another man?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’d rather just give up?” Ruper Mackenzie asked, “Instead of fighting for her? If she loves ye back, then yer a fool to miss out on a a chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look who we have here, lads.” said one of the younger men “Rupert Mackezie - the romantic!”</span>
  <span>“Shut up, ye coot! It’s not as if you’ve had any luck in that department, eh?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rupert threw a rock at the other lad and I couldn’t help but chuckle. The young Mackenize had a good heart, but knew little of love. Still, it was better than the teasing from the others. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They have a point, Murtagh.” Jamie said “When we return to Lallybroch, you should tell her how you feel. If my sister likes her as much as you’ve told me, then she must be a good lass. What’s the worst that could happen?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, indeed.” I sighed “You really need to do something about that arm of yours, lad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jamie frowned as I nodded at his dislocated shoulder. As Jamie was about to protest, a noise caught my attention and I stood up to get a better idea of where it came from. In the distance, I thought I heard screaming, but it wasn’t a man’s voice I heard, but rather a woman struggling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Redcoats.” I said “Quick, there’s a small house not far from here!” I said “You should take cover there!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What will you do?” Dougal asked, unhappy about how I’d taken charge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go and see why the redcoats are tormenting a poor lass.”   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For once, Dougal didn’t argue with me and the men gathered their things as quickly as they could. I marched into the wood, and hoped that whatever the redcoats were up to wasn’t as bad as I feared. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>To be continued….</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>
    <i>A slightly shorter chapter, but they’ll likely get longer as I go along. I’m only just setting up the story and the vibe around it! Please leave a kudos/comment!</i>
  </b>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Claire and Jamie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In whch Jasmine meets Claire and Jamie....</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>A/N:</b> Hello, hello, hello! Another day, another chapter! It’s a little bit of a rollercoaster at home, but writing is keeping me going and I love reading your comments! I didn’t expect this fic to get any kudos or comments at all so thank you!</p><p>I’ve fast-forwarded in time a little bit, because as I mentioned before, this fic will be long enough without detailing every single incident that happened in the year Jasmine stayed at Lallybroch. This episode will feature bits from the episode “Lallybroch”, but I’m trying my best to not straight out copy the episode. Also I know the Murtagh technically doesn’t ride in with Claire and Jamie, but I’ve obviously made some changes to suit this fic as it is more Jasmine’s story rather than Claire’s. </p><p>Also, this is a LONG chapter and rather than just sticking to one point of view, we’re diving into Murtagh’s POV towards the end of this chapter. I hope you’ll like it.! </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter Six </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Claire and Jamie </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Ian came home to Lallybroch not long after Murtagh left. Jenny was relieved to see her husband and they shared an emotional reunion, but she also found out that they’d been forced to amputate his leg in France, after a bullet hit him and then later became infected. I was ashamed to admit that I had no idea that’s how it happened, but it made sense. By the time he returned, Ian had gotten used to his leg replacement and Jenny was only grateful to have her husband back alive. Truthfully, I’d been a little nervous about meeting Ian, because there was a chance he might not like the fact that Jenny allowed a complete stranger stay in their house. As far as he was aware, I could have been a person with less than honourable intentions. To my surprise, Ian thanked me for keeping my wife company, especially with Murtagh gone and I was more than relieved to have his approval. Ian was a kind man who loved his family dearly. I decided to give him time with Jenny and wee Jamie and spent most days wandering around the estate or keeping Mrs Crook company while running errands for the house. Even though it had been a year, I still had not dared going into the part of the woods where Murtagh found me. A part of me worried about what memories would resurface and another part of me worried that maybe I would accidentally return to my world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Returning to my world should have been exactly what I wanted, but I couldn’t help but have an intense feeling that told me I was supposed to say. With Claire’s help and our combined knowledge, I could try to change things. Maybe Jamie and Claire wouldn’t have to be separated for twenty years and they could both have a happy life here. Maybe neither Murtagh nor Jamie had to end up in Ardsmuir prison. Thinking about changing fate itself was a thought that instilled a different kind of terror in me. What would happen if I tried to change things and they still did not go according to plan or made them worse? I couldn’t live with the idea of causing Claire and Jamie grief, even if I hadn’t met them yet. I also wondered if there were some things that needed to happen for the sake of the greater could. How could I possibly know what those things were? Having those thoughts whirling around in my mind was overwhelming and I found myself in need of some air. I put a woolen cloak over my nightgown and carefully walked downstairs, being sure to avoid the creakier floorboards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once I reached the bottom step, the sounds of crackling flames from the fireplace reached my ears and I heard both Jenny and Ian’s voices. I hadn’t meant to linger in the hallway, but when I caught my own name, my curiosity got the better of me and so I moved forward, closer to the door, making sure they couldn’t see me. I leaned against the wall by door and listened to the conversation taking place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Murtagh?” Ian asked “You said those two are have become very close in the past year, perhaps there’s something good in that? I’d be more than happy to let her live with us, it seems she has been a blessing. Unfortunately, both you and I know that a woman such as herself won’t have much standing here, without a man by her side. Not just any man, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think Jasmine and Murtagh should marry?” Jenny replied “There’s definitely something between them, but I don’t ken that either of them would marry out of necessity?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, perhaps not.” </span>
  <span>Ian leaned back in his chair and sighed. Even though I knew that he and Jenny only wanted what was best for me, I couldn’t help but feel guilty. Despite having lived there for a year, I was still a stranger in their home and I certainly didn’t want to come in the way of their marriage, especially now they were finally back together. They were right, of course, there was something between Murtagh and I, but I didn’t know if it was just a simple crush or something else. Another part of me was frightened, because how could I get close to Murtagh knowing the fate of Culloden and what happens after. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jasmine is a good, loyal and kind lass, with a strong mind and knows her own worth.” Ian said “Any man would be lucky to have her and Murtagh is a damned fool if he can’t see that.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A surprised gasp escaped my lips and I covered my mouth, quickly and quietly hurrying back upstairs to my room. I exhaled the breath I’d been holding, sank down to the floor and hugged my knees tightly as I pulled them to my chest. I would be lying if I said I didn’t like Murtagh; hell, perhaps I even felt something for him. Both he and Jenny had become close friends since he found me and I was forever indebted to them. Murtagh Fitzgibbons was a good man with equally good intentions and a kind heart. Not to mention, I couldn’t deny the fact that he was awfully attractive with his long chestnut hair, broad shoulders and dark eyes. After he left and whenever I closed my eyes, I found myself back in the meadow and lost in the glimmer of his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ve never been a woman to jump into relationships and the few ones I’ve had have all ended, sometimes not so nicely. Aunt Naomi always told me I was too trusting for my own good and never wanted to see the bad in people, even when they did hurt me. This isn’t to say I’ve always been the perfect girl, far from it. I’ve made mistakes in the past and I’ve learned my lesson from them. A few weeks ago, I’d heard Jenny telling Mrs Crook that before he left, Murtagh had wondered about the possibility of me having a husband and that maybe I’d run away from him. It wasn’t too far from the truth, except he wasn’t a husband - he was a partner. I thought I’d loved Liam and perhaps once upon a time I had, but I also knew I couldn’t be happy with him. His family envisioned him as the perfect goldenboy, not knowing of his gambling addiction, which I had to suffer for when he didn’t win. I also had my part to play in that relationship and didn’t always say particularly nice things in the heat of the moment. In hindsight, I honestly don’t know why I stayed so long. Our families were friends and we’d known each other for years, but when we broke up things weren’t the same. My parents were adamant that I’d thrown away a good man for the sake of my own pride and freedom. Of course, they didn’t know that Liam kept his gambling addiction a secret and when I told his family, they refused to believe it. He of course used his acting skills to convince them I was overreacting.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I moved to Scotland to get away from it all, much to my own parents disappointment. Aunt Naomi, bless her, still remained on my side in it all and kept telling me that eventually my parents would calm down. Perhaps I had overreacted and I had let a good man go. There were good times with Liam, he could be incredibly sweet when he wanted to, but turned into a monster when his temper possessed him. I never thought Murtagh to be a violent man, but I did know what he was capable of and what happened to those who crossed him. Maybe I was scared of the past repeating itself and not really trusting my own judgement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Truthfully, I knew that Ian was right. In this time, with slavery a normal part of daily life, people of colour had no place in the world. If I stayed at Lallybroch, it would be under Ian and Jenny’s protection, but I couldn’t expect them to always want me around while their own family grew. Especially not considering how long they’d be away from each other. I didn’t want to, nor would I take advantage of that kindness. If something were to happen to me, while travelling with Jamie, Claire and Murtagh, there was no telling what would happen to me if they couldn’t save me. If for some reason I ended up leaving Lallybroch alone, I didn’t stand a single chance of survival in this time and in this world. Perhaps, marrying Murtagh was my best chance at retaining my free will and dignity. However, I couldn’t expect Murtagh to give up his freedom for the sake of allowing me mine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I needed to think about it, but I also knew that I didn’t have an awful lot of time to consider my options. Claire and Jamie wed out of necessity and then fell in love with each other. Was it at all possible that Murtagh might feel the same way I did? He’d sworn an oath to protect me while I was here, but neither of us could have guessed that it would possibly mean marriage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gave up on the idea of fresh air, got my Outlander book from the hidden compartment and crawled between the sheets of my bed. In the book, Geillis had just been burnt at the stake after accusations of Witchcraft and a part of me shivered at the thought that there was a very real possibility I could meet the same fate.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Ian, could I have a moment, please?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few weeks later, I found Ian in the library and when he turned to me, I could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew exactly what I’d come to talk about. He invited me to sit with him and as I did, I suddenly felt a whole flutter of butterflies emerge in my stomach. Ian placed his hand on mine and squeezed it reassuringly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard you and Jenny talk a few weeks ago,” I began “About my future here and about Murtagh.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I figured you might have,” Ian said “You’ve been awfully quiet of late. My apologies, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or for you to think that I don’t want you to stay here. You’re very welcome to, for as long as you wish.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded and exhaled a nervous breath as I gathered the thoughts that had constantly been occupying my mind lately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want you to know how incredibly grateful I am for </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>that you and Jenny have done for me. Not everyone would welcome a complete stranger into your family, especially one who doesn’t really know what happened.” I said “I know that I can’t possibly repay you for your kindness.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If I were to be completely honest, I felt guilty about the fact that I couldn’t tell Jenny and Ian about the actual reason why I claimed to not remember anything. I hated lying and I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen, should they ever find out that was the case. I often wondered why Claire and Jamie never told them. They were family after and would have preferred the truth, no matter how strange. Would they believe it, if it came from the two of us and not just Claire? If we told them, would it change things for the better or for the worse?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You dinna have to repay us, lass.” Ian assured me “You’ve been family to us while you’ve been here, not a guest. Jenny loves you like a sister.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel the same way,” I agreed “She’s wonderful. You’re lucky to have her.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Aye, I am. Am I right in thinking though, you harbor feelings of the romantic kind towards someone else.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately, red heat flushed my cheeks and I knew then that I had to admit my own feelings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” I confessed “At least, I think so. It’s all confusing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, from what my wife tells me, Murtagh feels the same way.” Ian chuckled “He’s a good and honest man who looks after those he loves.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think he….?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, I do. You don’t have to marry anyone against your will, but if you choose to, I believe you would both benefit from it. Besides, if you already love each other then that’s half the work done.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t realise I was crying until Ian wiped the tears from cheek and smiled at me in that warm way he always did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dinna fash,</span>
  </em>
  <span> lass.” Ian said “You’ve still some time to think about it and whatever choice you make, Jenny and I will support ye.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just keep thinking, what if I’ve misread everything and he doesn’t see me that way.” I sniffed “What if he’s met someone else while he’s been a way and I don’t get a chance to tell him how I feel. Or what if I just think I feel this way and it turns out I don’t love him at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ian burst out laughing and I wondered what was so funny, until I realised I’d said the L-word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was in love with Murtagh Fitzgibbons. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>It was a windy, yet sunny Monday afternoon when I heard it. I sat on the bottom step of the stairs, as I often did while writing. The front door was wide open and I felt the gentle breeze against my skin. After a year, I’d finally gotten used to wearing these long 18th century dresses, which while they were gorgeous was something different. In my own time, I often wore trousers or jeans, such as the ones I’d been wearing when Murtagh found me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, I thought the wind played a trick on hearing, but I soon realised it was no auditory hallucination. It was the familiar sound of trotting horse hooves that reached my ears and for a moment, my heart almost stopped beating. How could I be so sure that the person on the horse was Murtagh? We’d had visitors in Lallybroch before, but I knew the sound of Murtagh’s horse, Sorcha. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello…” came a familiar voice from outside and I had to hold my breath “My name is Claire. What’s your name?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I almost dropped my notepad when I heard her speaking to wee Jamie. Shortly after, Jenny’s voice replied and I sat frozen on the steps, unable to move. A part of me wondered that if I moved, it would all truly become real. It didn’t take long before I heard loud voices between Jenny and Jamie, who wondered why Jenny had named her son after him. I realised then that he believed that Jamie was Jack Randall’s son and not, in fact, Ian’s. I also realised that Jamie hadn’t yet noticed that his sister was pregnant with her and Ian’s second child. I listened intently for a moment while Jenny gave Jamie a piece of her mind. Claire’s voice interrupted again and I heard Jenny calling her a trollop. I tried to retrain a chuckle, but as I did, I caught a glimpse of Ian in the corner of my eye. He furrowed his eyebrows at me and gestured for me to come with him. I collected myself for a moment before I followed Ian outside and once I had, I could not longer ignore the truth standing right in front of me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire and Jamie, in the flesh. They both looked exactly as portrayed - Claire with her long raven curls and Jamie with his wild ginger hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whose child is the boy?!” Jamie asked, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Ian replied with certainty. “And that one too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jamie turned to Ian in shock. I realised it had been months since they last saw each other and now doubt he must have wondered if Ian survived the journey at sea with his leg. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s good to see you Jamie.” Ian said “You always did know how to make an entrance.”We thought you were dead until we got yer chest from Castle Leoch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And...who is this?” Jamie asked </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Jasmine.” Jenny explained “She’s our guest and has been for just over a year now. Well, more like a sister than a guest. It’s nice to know I have at least one family member I can count on here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jenny….I’m.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A damned fool.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that Jenny walked away and I sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, so you're the Aethiopian witch I've heard so much about." Jamie teased </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jamie!" Claire gasped </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm no more an Aethiopian witch than you are a redheaded pixie, Jamie Fraser." I told him "And you'd do well to remember it, otherwise Jenny isn't the only one who'll have your bollocks."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jamie chuckled and a wide grin tugged at his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aye, that I will, lass." he said "I see why you're well liked. No wonder you have Murtagh smitten." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where is he?" I asked "I thought I heard Sorcha, but.."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He had some personal business to attend to." Claire explained</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aye, Murtagh will be around. In the meanwhile, why don't you tell Claire and Jamie your story?" Ian suggested </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>I told Claire and Jamie my story, at least the parts I was able to divulge. I guessed Murtagh must have shared his version with his godson because as Jamie listened, he kept his gaze on me, as if carefully studying me to see if my intentions were good. Claire's expression was also one filled with curiosity and fascination. I knew I needed to speak with her alone, but I didn't know when I'd possibly find the time. After I'd told them my story, I let Ian take over and left them alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sat on bricked steps outside, anxiously waiting and watching for any sign of him. All the while feeling increasingly anxious and wondered if it was all a mistake after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He'll come." came Claire's voice behind me. The Lady Broch Tuarach sat lifted up her skirt and sat next to me. "He's missed you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's silly really," I scoffed "I've been looking forward to seeing him for months and now that I will, I almost want to run away. I keep worrying that maybe he's forgotten me or that it'll be awkward." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can guarantee you that he will worry about those things too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sighed and hoped Claire was right. It still felt strange sitting next to her, knowing that she was a real person and not a ghost or a figment of my imagination. Claire squeezed my shoulder in reassurance and as she did, I knew that this was my chance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This, uhm...this is going to sound a bit strange,” I began “But, could I speak with you in private for a moment?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Claire said “Is everything alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but they will be, I hope. We can’t speak here, though. Let’s go to my bedroom.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire followed me upstairs and when we got to my bedroom, I closed the door behind us, contemplating how to tell her the impossible. Would she believe me? I figured it was best to just rip off the band aid and get it over with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how to say this, so it’s probably best to show you.” I said “If you got to the corner, by the large wardrobe, you’ll notice a slightly loose floorboard. When you open it, there’ll be a hidden compartment with a few items.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Claire looked at me with some skepticism, but she did as I asked and found the loose floorboard. I watched as she knelt down, reached inside the compartment and gasped when she found the items I’d referred to. She sat there without saying anything at all, but then she got back up onto her feet with my inhaler in one hand and my jeans in the others. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand?” Claire whispered and sat down beside me on the bed “How did you come by these?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m like you, Claire. I am not from this time.” I confessed “Except, I was born in 1989 and I came here from the year 2020. I moved to Scotland not long ago for work and went on a day-trip to get out of the city a bit. I decided to visit Midhope Castle, because I wanted to see where Outlander was shot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire looked at me with equal parts confusion and dread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Outlander?” she asked “What’s that?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>How could I explain to Claire that in my world, her entire life was a famous series of books and a successful TV-series. None of this was supposed to be real; not Lallybroch, not Jenny or even Murtagh, I knew I would sound insane, but then again so was time-travel and the idea that this world was different from mine. I inhaled a deep breath, and slowly began to tell her everything. I told her about how that day started, that I found myself in the woods in a storm, confronted by two redcoats soldiers. I told her Murtagh had found me knocked out and brought me to Lallybroch, where I stayed for a year. I told Claire that I had to wait for her and Jamie, because something deep inside me told me that I had to go with them. By the time I finished, Claire sat in silence, holding my breath and wondered if she believed me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, this is all a lot.” I said “And I’m sorry to add this on top of everything you’re already going through.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s alright. I believe you.” Claire said after a while. “I used to think things like time travel didn't exist, but then I ended up here. What’s there to say there aren’t places where my life is a work of fiction?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, I’m still not convinced that I’m not having some sort of nervous breakdown.” I chuckled “In fact, it’s way, way overdue.”   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire looked at me with sympathy and even though this was strange for both of us, she knew what I was going through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not going to be easy for you, especially given….” she said “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude, but you’ll face a lot of racism.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It’s alright. I know my skin colour isn’t exactly going to work in my favor.” I agreed “Slavery is still legal here, isn’t it? I don’t think the Slavery Abolition act came into being until the 19th century I will pretty much have no social standing. Which is why, Ian and Jenny think I should marry Murtagh. T would give me a place to be in this world and a chase to retain my freedom.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re not wrong,” Claire agreed, “It’s clear to me that Murtagh loves you and from what I’ve seen you feel the same way, but it’s your choice in the end. If you stay with Jamie and I, we’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” Claire promised “Would you mind if I told him? He already knows about me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded in agreement and knew that Claire was right. If I didn’t marry Murtagh and if I wanted a chance at survival, I needed to stay close to her and Jamie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Claire asked “I know how it feels, to adjust to something so completely different. Something you never thought was real.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even after a year, it’s all still so overwhelming.” I sighed “I keep expecting to wake up and find that all of this has just been some incredibly vivid dream, but I don’t really want that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s hard in the beginning. I used to think I could never get used to the lack of modern amenities, but it almost becomes normal. Although, I imagine my future is much different from yours. 2020 is almost a hundred years from when I first went through the stones.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Words couldn’t describe how relieved I was that Claire believed me, without question. She could have chosen to distrust me, but she didn’t. I knew it was overwhelming for all of us, but there were more things to discuss that would add to the pressure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s something else I should tell you,” I confessed “That might make things difficult.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded at the two inhalers on the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have asthma” I explained “These are the two inhalers I use; the purple one is one I take every morning and every evening. The blue one is as and when I need to, for more acute symptoms. I’m eventually going to run and when I do, breathing is going to get really unpleasant. I obviously can’t use these in public ever, but being a nurse, I thought you should know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I’m glad you told me.” Claire said “There are remedies we can use here that would make it better. Now, what was the other thing you wanted to tell me? I can tell it’s weighing on you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the past few weeks, especially since Ian’s return from France, I’d given a great deal of thought about their part in all of this. In Outlander, Jenny and Ian were never told about Claire’s truth, at least as far as I knew. I couldn’t help but wonder if things would be easier for everyone if they were in the know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to tell Jenny, Claire.” I urged, “Both of them actually. Jenny and Ian have a right to know, they’re family. I know I promised I wouldn’t divulge too much of what I know and I don’t even know if those things will happen now because I’m here, but it will make it easier for you and Jamie.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if she won’t believe us and deem us insane or as witches?” Claire asked with fear and worry in her voice “I’ve already been accused of witchcraft once and nearly burned on the stake for it! I won’t go through that again, nor will I lose another friend to the same fate.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know and I don’t want that either, but do you seriously think that the Jenny and Ian Murray that we know, would do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire exhaled an exasperated sigh, with her hands buried in her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if they do believe us, Jenny will be furious.” Claire said “At us and Jamie for keeping it from them. His return already hasn’t been easy.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but Jenny will get over it.” I assured her “It’s the right thing to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Murtagh? Will you tell him as well?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was the conundrum. Would I tell Murtagh? A question that hadn’t escaped my mind for nearly a year. My reasons for not telling him were utterly selfish, but I couldn't stand the thought of him hating me or fearing me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” I said “It’s different with Murtagh. I know what happens to you and to Jamie, even if I don’t know if those things will come to pass. I don’t know Murtagh’s fate and as selfish as it sounds, I don’t want him to look at me differently, by telling him.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Claire placed her hand on mine and squeezed it gently, then hugged me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand,” Claire told me “But marrying someone and keeping secrets for them is never a good combination.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know and I’ll deal with those consequences, but for now, he can’t know.” </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>I spent the rest of the day anxiously waiting for the moment I’d been putting off for a year. When it finally came, I wondered if it was all a big mistake. I loved Jenny like a sister and I didn’t want to change that, but I knew I couldn’t carry on living this lie. No matter what happened, I had to be honest. I walked down the stairs and saw Jamie and Claire standing by the living room. Jamie’s gaze followed me and I wondered what went through his mind. A few moments later, Ian and Jenny joined us and we all gathered in the living room, with the roaring fireplace in the background.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit down.” Jamie ordered “Both of you. Grab yourselves a drink while you’re at it. You’ll need it.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” Ian asked “You all look as though you’ve seen ghosts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, perhaps we have. Jasmine, why don’t you start.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Telling Ian and Jenny was so much harder than telling Claire, because they were family to me. The last thing I wanted was for them to hate me. When I was done,  Claire took over and explained hers. Most of it, I already knew, but there were parts I hadn’t heard. By the time Claire finished, Jamie filled in what he knew and when he was done speaking, the whole room fell silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is insane.” Jenny whispered “You expect us to believe this...this madness-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe it.” Ian said calmly and took his wife’s hand “It makes sense now. The way you carry yourself and how you speak. The clothes you wore when Murtagh found you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry…” I apologised “I didn’t mean to hide the truth, I just didn’t think you’d believe me. Then Claire came along and I knew we had to be honest with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does Murtagh know?” Jenny asked sharply</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my head and sighed as a knot formed in my stomach. Jenny used the same tone in her voice as when she’d argued with Jamie and I fought to hold in tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Jenny said “Keep it that way. I don’t care what that man says himself, but he feels responsible for you and he loves you. I’m not certain how he’d take this revelation.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, that’s why I’ve decided not to tell him.” I agreed “I don’t like lying to him, after everything he’s done. I do know that there’ll be a time when Murtagh might find out in one way or another, but it’s not my place to change things as they’re meant to happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re playing with fate, lass.” Ian warned “Both of you, but I agree that Murtagh can’t know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, all of us in this room have vowed not to tell him, until the time comes when he needs to know.” Jamie said </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <b>Murtagh’s POV </b>
</p><p>
  <span>I hesitated as I walked up the stairs towards Jasmine’s room. It was late, but Jenny had told me she was awake and truthfully, I was anxious to see her. The past few months had felt nothing short of a lifetime and I’d be lying if I claimed to not be nervous. I raised my hand, ready to know on the wall, but instead I lingered in the doorway. Jasmine sat on the bed, just as she often did, with writing down notes in the journal I’d given her for Christmas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still got yer head in that book, I see?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost instantly, Jasmine reacted and dragged her gaze from the book and to me. As she got off the bed and walked towards me, her expression was a mix of joy and disbelief, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi..” Jasmine whispered </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello.” I replied </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In my mind, I cursed Rupert Mackenzie and his wisdom. Since our return to Lallybroch, I had barely had a chance to speak with her and whenever we had a moment alone, it was interrupted. This was the first time we were truly alone and I suddenly found my stomach inhabited by butterflies, as though I was a wee lad unable to control his emotions. I was frozen for a moment, unable to move and just for a split second I wondered if Angus was right and if she had somehow bewitched me. Jasmine stood barefoot in her nightgown and I wanted to compose myself and I desperately tried, but when she walked up to me and I caught a whiff of lavender from her hair, which had grown longer since I last saw her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uhm..I thought you would--” she started, but I decided to curse all patience and closed the distance between us by pressing my lips against hers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, I worried that I might have scared her, but instead, she invited my tongue into her mouth. Jasmine wrapped her hands around my neck and as her body pressed against mine, I used my advantage to pick her up. She gave a surprised squeal as I pushed her against the wall and used the palm of my hands against the wood as balance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone will hear us..” Jasmine chuckled as I nibbled her ear and let my tongue traced down her neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dinna care.” I mumbled into her ear “Let them hear us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, Murtagh Fitzgibbons, I thought you were a man who valued privacy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, but I have waited a long time for this moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh really? And what moments is that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pulled away from Jasmine’s neck and looked her in the eyes, as a cheeky grin tugged at her lips. I tucked her hair behind her ears and listened to her increased heartbeat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you.” I confessed “I have wanted you for a long time, I just wasn’t sure if you felt the--”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>This time, Jasmine was the one who interrupted me by pulling me in for another kiss, deeper than the one before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you too.” she whispered “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you while you were away.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was all I needed to hear and so, I lifted Jasmine from the wall and carried her over to the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>To be continued…..</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>
    <i>That was a much longer chapter than I’d intended and a lot happened. I’d love to know what you guys think about the growing plot and the character interactions? Leave a kudos/comments!</i>
  </b>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Something Wicked this way Comes - Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Jas gets her first taste of danger....</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>A/N:</b> A belated happy Halloween/Blessed Samhain! Here’s another chapter for you! I’ll be loosely following the plot of the end of Season 1 and then when we move into S2 it’ll be more varied. I don’t want to copy the show and its dialogues, but some story arcs and plot will be used.</p><p>I also want to point now, that I am going to change some events that are canon for the show, but not so that it totally changes the elements of the story. I kind of jumpstarted Murtagh and Jasmine’s romance, but they won’t always have it easy and fluffy, much like Jamie and Claire. Also, I know Murtagh’s inner-monolog is maybe a bit more literary than the Murtagh on screen, but I imagine that he does have inner monologues in his mind. </p><p>Finally, I realise now that I messed up the timeline with Jenny’s pregnancy and Ian’s return from France and their wedding, but please bear with me. </p><p>Anyway, I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter Seven </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Something Wicked This Way Comes, Part I</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Murtagh’s POV </b>
</p><p>
  <span>When I awoke the next morning, Jasmine was still fast asleep. I watched as she deeply inhaled and exhaled each breath. Carefully, I leaned against my elbow and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, as I gently kissed her forehead. Sleep had never come easily to me and was oftentimes filled with nightmares. Some things you learn to live with, but last night was the first night in a long time where I woke up and I felt rested. All because of the woman laying beside me. I wondered what filled her dreams and hoped she was no longer troubled by nightmares of what happened to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shifted my weight and pulled myself up, ready to start the day. With Jamie back at Lallybroch and Claire by his side, I wondered if he would take up the role of Laird, as was his birthright. Ian and Jenny had done a great job running the estate and taking on the duties in Jamie’s absence. Lallybroch was safe for the time being, but the more cynical part of me couldn’t help but think it would be a matter of time. The Duke of Sandringham had promised to pardon Jamie, but I didn’t trust that English prick as far as I could throw him. I had heard loud voices between Jamie and his sister last night and I figured Jasmine had decided to stay clear of the family drama.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you going?” came a tired voice from beside me, “The sun’s barely up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want to wake ye,” I said, “You were sleeping so soundly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sat back down on the bed and Jasmine stifled a yawn as she turned to me. It was true what they said, love could turn any reasonable man to a soppy fool. Truthfully, I felt blessed and lucky that she also felt the same way. Over the course of my life, I’d made plenty of dumb decisions and the last thing I wanted was to scare her away. I had no doubt about my feelings and a part of me also </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marry me,” I whispered as I brushed a strand of hair out of her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Are you serious?” Jasmine asked as she sat upright, Her face filled with surprise as she studied me, looking for signs of whether or not this was the truth. “This isn’t just some weird highland attempt at a joke?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my head and knelt down and took Jasmine’s hands. A part of me felt like an utter fool and if Angus Mohr was here, he’d certainly laugh at me along with Dougal Mackenzie and the rest of his men. Yet, I knew it was what I not only needed, but perhaps also what I had always wanted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you, Jasmine Hammonds, do me the great honor of becoming my wife?” I asked “Will you marry me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a while, Jasmine just stared at me in shock, as though she didn’t believe my words and I began to worry that maybe I’d been too forward. Too eager for her to realise my feelings were nothing but genuine and that I wanted to be someone who could make her happy. After all, even though we’d known each other a year, this was the first time we’d both admitted our feelings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Murtagh Fitzgibbons” Jasmine nodded. “I will marry you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I let out a relieved chuckle and pressed my lips against her, more tightly than before. Jasmine pulled me tightly towards her and I decided my errands for the day could wait. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>It was almost midday by the time we finally decided it was time to dress for the day. Truthfully, I would have rather stayed under the sheets all day, but I’d always been a man of my word and I had some errands to run for the house. Besides, going to Broch Mordha would give me a chance to find a suitable ring for Jasmine. I wasn’t a rich man by any means, I barely had any coins on my person at all. However, I did know a silversmith who owed me a favor and I thought now would be a good time to remind him of it. Up until recently, I’d never considered myself to be suited for married life and I always valued my freedom, but the past year had shown me that Jasmine was very similar. She opened the bedroom door and exhaled a deep breath while she wondered whether or not to walk out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you nervous?” I asked, “To tell the others, I mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little,” she replied, “Which is ridiculous of course,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it makes ye feel better, I’m fairly certain the news will be well received.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grabbed Jasmine’s hand and squeezed in reassurance, as we left the bedroom. The smell of food travelled up the stairs and reached my nose, which made my stomach rumble. A reminder that breakfast was long overdue, but as we walked downstairs we stopped by the lounge, where Claire, Jamie and Ian were already gathered. Jasmine told me the previous night that she’d met Jamie and Claire, as well as told Jamie off for making jokes about her being an Aethiopian witch. Even if she had told him, I thought it might well be time to teach my godson a lesson, the same way Dougal Mackenzie had after one of his daughters kissed Jamie when he was 14 years old.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jamie, Claire.” Murtagh said “I believe you’ve already met Jasmine, my wife-to-be.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reaction was instant, especially from Jamie who shot up from his seat and walked over to us. Claire looked a little more surprised, if happy still. Nobody in this house could judge anyone on sudden announcements of marriage. I recall well when Jenny walked up to Ian and practically ordered him to marry her. Then there was Jamie and Claire’s marriage, which was one out of necessity but I also knew there were real feelings there. After all, that was undoubtedly why Jamie agreed to marry her in the first place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wife-to be?” Jamie repeated, “You don’t mean--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, I asked Jasmine to marry me and she said yes.” I said </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is wonderful!” Ian said “Congratulations! Jenny will be thrilled when she finds out!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye and yet another reason to celebrate,” Jamie agreed, “Welcome to the family, lass.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watched as Jamie pulled Jasmine in for a hug and I wish I’d understood back then exactly what that would come to mean. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <b>Jasmine’s POV </b>
</p><p>
  <span>If I was completely honest, I was overwhelmed with the love shown by everyone else when Murtagh revealed the news of our engagement. I couldn’t understand  why I’d been so worried because we were shown nothing but love and genuine happiness for our sake. Mrs Crook even shed a few tears. Perhaps a little bit of guilt gnawed in the back of my mind about the truth I hid from Murtagh. I could have chosen to tell him the truth about Claire and I, just as I told Jenny and Ian. I couldn’t help but feel this gut instinct inside me, saying that now wasn’t the time and that Murtagh needed to find out in the way things were intended. Maybe Ian was right in that both Claire and I played with a higher power we couldn’t possibly understand. Perhaps what I was really afraid of, was that I might lose the person most precious to me, if I revealed things now. I didn’t even know if any of the things I knew of would come to pass and there was a lot of uncertainty whirling around in my head. I realised that this must be exactly what Claire had been feeling before she finally told Jamie the truth about the stones.  For the moment, I decided to let go of those worries and enjoy my newfound happiness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The following evening, visitors came to Lallybroch, celebrating the return of Jamie as well as his wife - the Lady Broch Tuarach. For over a year, I’d known things would change as soon as Claire and Jamie arrived, but the reality of it all hit me like a freight train. Despite being happy about my engagement with Murtagh and welcoming me to the family, Jamie had barely spoken a word to me since Claire revealed my truth to him. It was one thing, I imagined, to know that your wife came from the future and knew historical facts that had yet to pass. It was a completely different thing to find out that in my time and my world, he didn’t exist and all of this was a work of fiction. I couldn’t even imagine what it felt like to be faced with that kind of existential crisis and I did feel guilty. I still wasn’t convinced that was the case, because the fact that I was here and had been for over a year proved that all of this was real. I just didn’t understand how and neither, it became apparent, did Claire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ve seen enough sci-fi movies and grew up on Back to the Future, to know that knowing too much of ones future is a bad thing, especially when it was clear to me that I still did not know if any of those things would happen. Yet, I made the choice to show Claire the Outlander book, so that she could see for herself that I was telling the truth. At first, she hadn’t believed it and thrown the book away. A totally natural reaction, which I would have had as well, but she eventually gave into her own fear and sat down with the book. I explained my relationship with the book and my Aunt Naomi, I explained how far I’d read and about the TV-Series and I at least hoped that Claire understood that even if I did know things, none of this was in my control. A fact that terrified me. She asked if she could have the book and I told her yes, because I would also want to know, but I also warned her that knowing things is one thing, but it doesn’t mean you have the power to change all of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sounded like such a hypocrit, because I knew there were things I wanted to change as well. All the while Murtagh was gone, I’d been thinking about the Battle of Culloden and all the things happening after it. I thought about Jamie and Claire’s time in France with Bonnie Prince Charlie and I couldn’t help but wonder if I also had a part to play in all of it. Where did it begin and what would I become responsible for? There were so many possibilities and impossibilities that I just felt nauseated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is why, on that night when all the tenants came around to celebrate Jamie’s return and to pay rent, I found myself sitting outside. I’d always been something of an introvert and found crowds of people more exhausting than anything. Murtagh was away on errands and I wasn’t quite sure when he’d return. The tenants who came to visit were from Broch Mordha and around the area. Some of them knew of me or had seen me in the village with either Jenny or Mrs Crook. Some of them said hello, after rumours of me being a slave had been repelled. Some of them sneered at me and whispered amongst themselves. I knew Murtagh was a man of respect and he’d never let anyone treat me badly, but I also wondered if I’d ever get the same respect as Claire for being married to Jamie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ye know, just because my brother’s home, it doesn’t mean yer less of a guest.” came Jenny’s voice as she lifted her skirt and sat next to me.  “He told you himself, you’re family now and you’re welcome here as long as you wish.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even though I kept the truth from you for so long?” I asked</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jenny sighed in a tone that I knew all too well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t claim that I’m not upset,” she confessed."But I understand </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t tell me. Honestly, if it weren’t for Claire and my husband’s reassurance, I don’t think I would have believed you. Just because I’m upset, it does’na mean I’ll stop being yer friend, you daft lass. Besides, who else is going to help you plan a wedding?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, grateful that Jenny still considered me a friend. Over the past year, she’d become one of the most important people in my life, and none of this would be at all worth it if she’d for some reason decided to disown me as a friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, what else is on yer mind?” she asked. “I can tell something’s bothering you. For a woman newly engaged, you should be all smiles.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am happy, I love Murtagh.” I replied “It’s just, we’re celebrating Jamie’s return tonight and people are overjoyed and I can’t help but feel a bit sad, because I know our engagement won’t receive the same reaction. I mean, you must have seen how people have reacted to me just being here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People like to fill their heads with rumours and believe in fear, because they dinna ken any better. It doesn’t excuse their behaviour, but fear is a strong power in people and people fear what they dinna ken or understand. Especially in these parts. People ken yer family and if they can’t accept it, it won’t just be Murtagh they’ll answer to. Now come on, there’s some people I want to introduce you to.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>I ended up having a good time, despite my initial sadness and worry. Jenny introduced me to some of her friends from the village and to my surprise, they were all kind and curious. When Jenny told them about my engagement to Murtagh, there were plenty of giggles, questions and congratulations. They wondered if I’d thought about a dress yet or how I was planning to do my hair. I had to admit that it felt nice to be included and a part of something, and not just being an outsider.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t see Murtagh the next morning and I figured that he got caught up with business in Broch Mordha. I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t suffering from a minor hangover, but it was all worth it in the end. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to a party that actually filled me with joy and laughter as last night had. I knew Claire and Jamie had some trouble with one of the young boys whose father was drunk and abusive and Jenny gave them both a piece of her mind the following morning. I understood her frustration and even though Claire and Jamie meant well, life had been carrying on without them in Lallybroch for a long time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I made a point of staying out of the family drama, I’d had plenty of my own over the years and I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. I wanted to ask Claire if she’d had a chance to read the book yet, but there was no time for such conversations and so a couple of days later, I sat outside in the grass, enjoying the sun and doodling in my notebook. It was the sound of horsehooves that first reached my ears, and then followed by footsteps running from the main building. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to go inside,” Jenny told me “Now! You can’t be seen out here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jenny?!” I asked, “What’s wrong?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jenny nodded and as I turned around, I saw a flutter of red fabric in the distance, accompanied by the horsehooves. Immediately, my heart began to beat faster, because I knew all too well what that meant. A familiar panic took shape in my stomach and I wanted to vomit. I hadn’t seen redcoats since that day in the forest a year ago and all once, memories came flooding back at me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go!” Jenny said “Now! There’s no time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Jamie and --” I asked </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll warn them. You have no time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t argue and ran as fast as I could towards the house, when a strong arm grabbed me and pulled me towards him. I hadn’t noticed Murtagh return and now, we both hid behind the bricked wall, in-between thick bushes. Jamie and Claire were at the windmill, and I vaguely heard Jenny speaking to Claire in a sharp voice.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All I could do was hope the redcoats would pass by and not decide to take a long around. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>To be continued…</b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>
    <i>A bit of an abrupt ending, but I do love a cliffhanger.  What did you think? Will Claire read the book? What will she have to say? Leave a comment!</i>
  </b>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Something Wicked this way Comes - Part II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which more trouble comes to Lallybroch...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>A/N:</b> Happy weekend! It’s been a few days since my last update, but it’s been a hectic week with the US election (I’m not American, but I’m interested in it) and things going on at home. I’ve started a new round of medications for my autoimmune condition which is taking some time getting used to and leaves me more tired than I like to be. BUT here’s another chapter continuing from where the last one left off! I’d love to know what you guys think about the plot and if I’m keeping everyone in character. I’m changing a few things and taking it in a different direction than canon, but I promise it’ll be worth it. Let me know if there are changes you’d like to see or different takes on what happened in the show! </p><p>This is a long one, folks! I hope you’re ready for it!</p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
  <b>Chapter Eight </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Something Wicked This Way Comes, Part II </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Late 1770s </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?! Did the redcoats find Jasmine? Where was Murtagh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jemmy’s eyes were wide with equal parts excitement and fear. He clenched the cotton sheet so tightly that Jamie thought the child might rip it apart altogether. Honestly, Jamie hadn’t expected his grandson to be so invested in the story to begin with, but now it was a requested bedtime treat and in fact, the ginger-haired Fraser realised he quite enjoyed taking on the role of storyteller.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dinna fash, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mo cridhe</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jamie chuckled as he tucked Jemmy back between the sheets. “Murtagh was there and kept Jasmine hidden from the redcoats.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did they leave?” Jemmy wondered “Were they okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re awfully interested for somebody who didn’t want to a story about romance?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red blush appeared on Jemmy’s cheeks and Jamie couldn’t help but smile at his grandson. He reminded Jamie so much of himself at that age. Eager and keen to learn about the world around him and filled with so much affection for the people he considered family. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, they were alright, but the peace didn’t last long.” Jamie explained “A few days later, Jasmine noticed commotion coming from downstairs and went to see what was going on.” </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <b>Jasmine’s POV </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1743…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keep calm now, lad.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What right do you have coming into this house without…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angry voices awoke me from my nap that day. I’d been lulled into sleep by the comforting warmth of the fireplace, but it only took a few moments until I was wide awake, trying to figure out the source of the noises from downstairs. I quickly got dressed and carefully opened the door, not wanting to bring attention to myself. I wasn’t the only one who’d heard all of the commotion and at the same time as I opened my door,  I saw Claire walking out onto the landing, carrying an equally puzzled expression on her face. I put my finger to my mouth and nodded to the scene taking place beneath us. Jamie was being confronted by a middle-aged man, with long white-ish grey hair holding a gun. They weren’t redcoats, but they might as well be with the way they stormed in, taking total control. There were other men in the room as well, guarding Jamie as though they were expecting trouble and I could tell by Jamie’s face and the anger in his words that he was ready for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a few moments for me to realise it, but I knew who these men were. Taran MacQuarrie and his ‘Watch’. Several thoughts whirled around in my head as I tried to remember events from the book and the series. In the show, Taran and his men had Jenny and Ian wrapped around their fingers out of pure fear of what might happen if they disagreed. The worst part of it all was that I knew this was the first in a series of events that would eventually end with Jamie in prison where Jack Randall tortured him and worse. Until now, I’d been living in Lallybroch quite blissfully getting used to the world around me, not having to care much about everything going on behind the scenes and to some extent, that’s how I wished it would stay. The first thing I’d told Claire was that I had no idea if anything I knew would actually happen and I still stayed behind that opinion. Now that MacQuarrie was here, I began to wonder if I could actually change something for the better because if Jamie didn’t end up in prison, maybe things would end differently at Culloden and maybe he and Claire wouldn’t have to be separated for 20 years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve heard enough from the likes of you.” Taran threatened </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire gasped and Taran’s attention was immediately brought to us. A nasty grin tugged at his lips that made a shiver trickle down my spine like a jolt of electricity. I’d never liked Taran MacQuarrie in the show and I liked him even less in person. Nothing good could come out of having him in the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now you stay silent as a lamb, my friend.” he said “Or this lovely lass is gonna be scrubbing your brains off the floor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I saw the fear in Claire’s eyes and I shared it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t think I can’t see you too, my dear.” Taran said and gestured at me with his gun,  “I’ve heard a lot about you. I didn’t think Jenny was the kind of woman to get a slave girl, but maybe I could find use for you myself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I kept quiet, not wanting to prove him more with any defense. I had no doubt in my mind that if Taran wanted to, he could have his way with anyone he pleased and it wouldn’t be pleasant. I didn’t want to condone his appalling behaviour, but I also didn’t want to instigate futhter trouble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope you’ve kept that powder dry.” Jamie warned “And I’ll ram that pistol down yer gullet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only one way to find out.” Taran teased</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There would have been bloodshed in a heartbeat, if it wasn’t for the sound of Jenny’s footsteps approaching in the hallway. I caught her eyes before just before she walked into the room, ready to give everyone a piece of her mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Taran...put yer gown down!” Jenny barked. No person in their right mind would choose to argue with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taran hesitated for a few seconds, but then did as he was told and his men followed. A tense sigh escaped my lips and I was glad for the interruption. Claire was a lot braver than I was and carefully walked downstairs, whereas I decided there was safety in staying on the landing.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve found a scoundrel in here Jenny.” Taran cackled “He’s lucky I’ve got a steady hand or he’d have a ball in his brains by now.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Jamie stood frozen with his mouth shut, undoubtedly due to his sister’s presence but I dreaded to think what would have happened if Jenny wasn’t here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s no scoundrel, you fool.” Jenny snapped, “That’s my </span>
  <em>
    <span>cousin</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Jamie.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Jamie MacTavish.” Jamie said</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cousin. That was the storyline we planned to go with and I hope Taran was easily fooled because otherwise, we’d all be in a lot of trouble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the lass you’re referring to, is our guest.” Jamie corrected “Jasmine.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“So she’s no slave then?” Taran asked with furrowed eyebrows. The way he looked at me made me squirm and I wanted to have a bath to rid myself of the icky feeling.  “What a shame.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m no more a slave than you are a fool.” I snapped, perhaps a bit quickly than I had intended</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>For a moment, I felt all eyes fall on me and I wondered if perhaps I should have kept quiet, but I’d be damned if I allowed a man like Taran spew vile words out of his mouth. Historically, people like me were used as slaves and we didn’t have any right for another few centuries even with the Slavery Abolition Act. If I could change one thing while being here, perhaps changing the way people of colour were viewed was somewhere to start. Logically, I knew it was a giant task at hand and I wasn’t some kind of historical hero, but if I could at least vocally defend myself it was somewhere to start. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cousin, you say?” Taran asked, ignoring my words completely.“My pardon to you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shouldn’t you pardon, our guest as well?” Jenny asked “Given that you just called her a slave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taran looked up at me and then just turned back to Jamie. I admired Jenny’s attempt, but it was pointless. Men like Taran MacQuarrie never changed and gave true meaning to the old saying ‘You can’t teach an old dog how to sit’. They did as they pleased without fear of repercussion because honestly, most people were afraid of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll understand my caution?” Taran cautioned, “I’ve never laid eyes on you, MacTavish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jenny strode into the room without showing a hint of fear, but the vibe in the room was thick enough to slice with a knife. An old metaphor, but it still rang true. For the first time since I found myself here, the reality of my situation began to sink in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jamie came for a visit. Walked in one fine day without warning.” she explained, “And with a wife on his arm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watched as Claire walked over to Jamie and grabbed her arm. I wondered if she was as frightened as the rest of us. In many ways, I hadn’t realised how much our situations were so similar and acknowledged that she must be feeling the same way I had for the past year. The main difference was that all of this was much newer for her than it was for me. Claire was still figuring everything out, whereas I’d had time to come to terms with everything. She’d married Jamie out of necessity, but at this point in time probably realised they did have feelings for each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jenny and Ian didn’t know we were married.” she said."We surprised them.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“A <em>Sassenach</em>?” another man said “For a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bride</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nearly put a gun to his head myself, when I heard.” Jenny faux-chuckled, “But we’ve come to know Claire, she’s a decent woman. We don’t mind her Englishness so much.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pleased to make your acquaintance mistress.” He apologised, “I’m Taran MacQuarrie."You'll excuse my confusion. I thought your husband was intending to rob the place.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No Taran,” Jenny scoffed “We like to leave the robbing to you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I carefully walked downstairs and stood by the side. Not long after, Ian came in with an equally worried expression on his face. The last time Taran and his lost had come to visit, Jenny had made sure I was away, but this time it was without warning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MacQuarrie.” Ian said “We dinna expect you till next month.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye that was the plan,” Taran explained, “but I was pining for Jenny’s rabbit stew.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ian didn’t reply, instead he grabbed a sword from the back of the room and passed it to Taran. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I took that sword of yours to the Smithy.” Ian said “Had the nicks ground off the blade and polished off the rust with a bit of whale oil.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taran examined the sword with great interest in care. In that moment, it became clear to me that he was a man who valued material belongings much more than people and I couldn’t imagine him having a shroud of empathy in his soul. He seemed pleased with the sword and complemented Ian for his effort. I, on the other hand, decided I’d had more than enough of this faux-nicety and needed to think. With Taran and his men here, there wouldn’t be much room for me to explain the events to Claire and the others. Especially Jamie. I shuddered at the thought of what would happen to him at Wentworth prison. Nobody deserved to suffer something that awful and if I could help prevent it, I would. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” I announced, ready to retire for the rest of the evening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Taran interrupted sharply. “You’ll join us. I insist.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no point in arguing because I knew I’d lose. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>I’d participated in plenty of awkward dinners throughout my life, but this one took the price. Dinner with MacQuarrie and his gang was painfully awkward and uncomfortable, especially without Murtagh at my side. Although, I had a feeling that if Murtagh was there, it could have been a lot worse. After the surprise redcoat visit, Murtagh had left to run some kind of errand for his aunt at Castle Leoch. While I missed him and obviously longed for us to spend more time together now that our feelings were out in the open, I didn’t question his whereabouts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sat through dinner and kept as quiet as possible. By the time MacQuarrie’s finally retired for the night we all exhaled a relieved sigh. I buried my face in my hand before downing a glass of wine. Claire must have seen my face and for a moment, all eyes fell on me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you know about MacQuarrie?” Claire asked quietly, “I can tell you know them from your expression. You’re scared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I thought about my response for a few moments, because there were a couple of things on my mind. If I told them what I knew and how this part of the story ended, how would that knowledge affect Claire and Jamie? Knowing too much about one’s future and fate was frightening for anyone, especially when it entailed such gruesome details. Then there was the fact that if I did tell them, how would it change the other events? Would Claire and Jamie still end up in France to stop the Jacobite uprising? If they didn’t go to France, would that somehow change the battle of Culloden? Was there a chance things would end up much worse because of the choices I made in this particular moment? Would I be able to live with the responsibility of those choices if things ended in disaster? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been a long time, uhm, but they’re bad news.” I replied “Their visit isn’t going to end well, no matter how much we try to please them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For <em>whom</em>?” Jamie asked and leaned forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t lie to Jamie. Not when I knew about the terrible things Jack Randall was capable of. I just wasn’t sure if I would be able to actually speak about them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For you,” I replied “I don’t exactly remember how, but Taran MacQuarrie’s visit ends with you ending up at Wentworth Prison with Captain Jack Randall.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know him?” Jamie wondered “Is he also a part of this story you’ve talked about? Outlander?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded and swallowed nervously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know </span>
  <em>
    <span>of </span>
  </em>
  <span>him, yes.” I confirmed, “His fate is entwined with yours and you will keep running into him. Except this time, you end up getting hurt in a way that nobody should ever have to suffer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean with torture? Or death” Claire asked </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worse. Much worse.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another silence fell over the dining table and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d done the right thing. Whatever happened from this moment on, was because I’d told them what would happen. It was just like in Back to the Future, if you tamper too much with your own future some things that will end up defining you won’t happen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was scared. Really, really scared.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Not much sleep was had that night and I was plagued with more nightmares. This time, I was running in an unfamiliar forest away from chanting voices in the dark. In the distance, I could see Craig Ná Dun and desperately tried running for it, but every time I got closer I kept falling down a slippery hill until I was back in the forest. The voices that called out to me warned me that I shouldn’t meddle in things that I did not understand and that there would be great consequences for my actions. I saw a bloodied battlefield with corpses piled on top of each other and then suddenly I found myself in the middle of Versailles at the court of King Louis and a woman sat at a table, reading tarot cards. The scene changed again and I found myself in the middle of Culloden moor and in the middle of the battle, I saw Murtagh with blood dripping from his chest. I pushed forward and past all the soldiers, but when I reached the place where I’d seen Murtagh, he wasn’t there anymore and everything turned dark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I woke up the following morning and found my pillow drenched in a mix of sweat and tears. It took a while before I realised I was back in the safety of Lallybroch, but then then I also realised that Taran MacQuarrie and his men were still here. I took breakfast in my room, got dressed and grabbed the journal Murtagh gave me. I needed to clear my mind and staying inside the walls of the house wouldn’t help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite everything going on, it was a warm and sunny day. I picked my favourite spot on the grass where Murtagh and I often sat. Jamie had promised to re-shoe MacQuarrie’s horses and so his men were on the grounds. I hadn’t seen Claire or Jenny and I wondered if they were both okay after what had been after dinner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what have we here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words came from MacQuarrie’s right-hand-man, whose name I didn’t know. I noticed his shadow looming over me and a sly grin tugging at his lips. Immediately, an uncomfortable knot formed in my stomach and before I knew it, the man snatched the journal right out of my hand and started flipping through its pages. My heart raced and my cheeks turned red with anger as I shot up from the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Give that back!” I snapped, “It’s not yours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I can see that.” cackled the man “What’s in this then? I didn’t ken your kind had a way with words? Love poems?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tried grabbing the journal out of his hand, but I had no chance. Instead, the dark-haired man laughed as he read through the pages of my journal and I felt tears well up in my face. Worst of all, I didn’t want them to find out the more private thoughts about my truth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give it back to her!.” Jamie warned as he approached us, “Now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or what, </span>
  <em>
    <span>MacTavish</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” the man taunted, “You’ll defend </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>honor? Her kind dinna have honor. They are barely human.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A second later, Jamie punched the man who fell to his knees and with that, my journal fell out of his hand. I grabbed it quickly, but one of the other men grabbed my arms from behind so that I couldn’t move. I began to panic when we were suddenly interrupted by the sound of horse hooves approaching the estate. I was let go off and when I turned around, I saw a long haired man, with a bushy beard wearing a tricorne hat dismount his horse. If there was ever somebody one could describe as a pirate, it would be this man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About time!” Taran called out as he half-jogged from the house. “I dinna think you were going to grace us with your presence, Mr Horrocks.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Horrocks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jamie reached out his hand and pulled me off the ground, but remained silent. For a while, Horrocks stared at him and then at me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two lads know each other?” Taran asked warily </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought so,” Horrocks replied “But you tom-faced Scots all look the same to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taran seemed satisfied with that answer and gestured for his men to come back to the house, leaving Jamie and I alone in the yard. I was shaken, but grateful that the incident hadn’t escalated and grateful for Jamie’s presence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You alright, lass?” Jamie asked</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Thank you, for what you did.” I replied, “Look, Jamie. I know things have been a bit...weird since Claire told you about me and since we told Jenny and Ian. Especially after last night. I just….I want you to know that I’m on </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>side. I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>the enemy. There are just some things I can’t tell you guys. Not because I don’t want to change things, but because I don’t know what damage it might do. I’m not sure I could live with the ramifications of my actions if it caused you harm. This is all equally as strange to me as it is to you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand,” Jamie assured me as he put his hand on my shoulder, “You don’t have to explain yourself to me or anyone else. Be it by blood or not, yer a part of this family now and as far as I’m concerned families protect each other. I dinna ken if we’ll be able to stop the future from happening and I certainly wouldn’t hold you responsible for my actions. You can trust me as much as I trust you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, grateful for Jamie’s trust and I sincerely hoped that he wouldn’t come to regret it.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>To be continued…</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>
    <i>There we go! Perhaps not the most interesting chapter and I will try my best to not just write after the episodes, but there are important things in here that will affect the turn of events. Now that Jamie and Claire know about Wentworth Prison, what do you think will happen? Will Jamie still end up in there or will things perhaps change? If so - how? </i>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <i>Please leave a comment and tell me your thoughts!</i>
  </b>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. A Turn for the Worse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which things get even worse...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>A/N:</b> Aaaaand I’m back! With another chapter nonetheless! Life is hectic at the moment and I’m trying to decide whether or not I want to go back to University and do another degree (in Edinburgh!), which feels daunting now that I’m in my early 30s, but we’ll see what happens! Thank you so much for all the comments so far! I’m so glad you guys like this fic! We’re reaching the end of Season 1, which is when I’ll be changing the plot slightly, but not so much that it entirely messes with canon. I hope you guys will forgive me for these changes :)</p><p>I also know that I’m doing Jasmine’s POV a lot now, but we’ll get back to Murtagh’s POV soon! And to clarify some questions, Jasmine has just about finished the first book and has seen season 1-3 (whereas I have season 1-4 and beginning of 5) so that’s the extent of her knowledge.</p><p>Anyway, without further ado! Let’s get back into it! </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter Nine </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A Turn for the Worse </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Jasmine’s POV </b>
</p><p>
  <span>My mind was an ocean of chaos. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Up until now, I’d been privileged with laying low and enjoying a peaceful Lallybroch. For an entire year I’d filed the coming events at the back of my mind, thinking that maybe they would never happen. Now they were happening and very quickly at that. I needed to figure out a plan of action, but Jamie didn’t want to know about his fate and I knew there was no changing his mind. With Taran and his men everywhere, getting some time alone was difficult and anxiety was gnawing at me. Sometime after the events in the yard, I got a rare window of opportunity to sneak upstairs. I knocked on Claire’s door three times and when she opened, she gestured for me to come in without a moment’s hesitation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s getting a bit crowded, isn’t it?” Claire asked “I feel like every step I take is being watched.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, tell me about it,” I replied as I made sure nobody was listening in the hallway, “Claire, we have to talk and I think you had better sit down.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire’s eyebrows furrowed as her body sank into the soft mattress. Truthfully, I loathed being the bearer of even worse news, but I had a responsibility I couldn’t avoid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jamie doesn’t want to know, so I’m telling you because someone has to know. I cannot have this on my conscience and not share it with someone.” I said “When Jamie gets taken to Wentworth Prison with Jack Randall, he doesn’t just torture Jamie. He rapes him and the impact it has on Jamie stays with him forever. In fact, it nearly kills him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I knew the look that spread over Claire’s face as she covered her mouth with her hand. Fear. No matter who you were or what your story was, fear was one of those emotions that all humans felt. Even Black Jack Randall, although parts of me doubted he was even human at all. Both Claire and Jamie had run in with him, so had Ian and Jenny. I was the only one who had never met him in person and I hoped that would never be the case. Even so, a terrifying thought began to take shape in the back of my mind and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was truly possible to avoid fate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god.” Claire gasped, “We can’t let that happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. We cannot,” I agreed “ However, Jamie doesn’t want to know his future and we have to respect that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can still stop it from happening, can’t we?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sighed and stared into the flaming embers of the fireplace. I hated being the bearer of bad news, but I knew that I had done the right thing. I could only hope that Claire and eventually Jamie would realise that as well and not just think that I was trying to meddle in their private affairs. Or, perhaps what I really needed to do was to stop worrying so much about others' perception of my intentions and act on what I knew was right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I started reading the book,” Claire confessed “Although, I haven’t gotten very far.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you at?” I asked curiously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve just arrived at Castle Leoch and I had to put it down. Everything is described in exact detail, down to how I’m feeling and every step I take.  I don’t understand how it’s possible.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand either. I’m so sorry, I know things have been difficult and me being here has just added to that. Sometimes I wonder if it’s real at all.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire sat down next to me. I envied her ability to always stay calm and find logic when things seemed to be the most difficult.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you feel responsible, but whatever happens isn’t your fault.” Claire assured me, “We’re all responsible for our own decisions and actions.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“That’s what Jamie said too.” I sighed, “You want to stop the battle of Cullodden, though. Don’t you?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’ve been thinking about it, yes. I’m not sure how or if it would even work. If I change one thing, maybe it means something else never happens or somehow plays with history in a way that’s damaging.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you know exactly how I feel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire walked over to the window and tucked her hands into her arms. For a moment she seemed to be lost in thought and I wondered what was on her mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Claire, you and I have combined knowledge that could change everything,” I told her, “But if we decide to do that we’ve got to be smart about it. You know the history of what’s going to happen, but I know your timeline. At least up until Season three.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Season three?” Claire asked “How many are there?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Five altogether. I’ve only seen the first three, I never quite had time to get back into it. No offence.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another moment of silence passed between us and I began to second guess my decision to share this information with Claire until she spoke again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we do this, then Jamie has to know.” Claire decided, “He has a right to know the future of his country and kinsmen. He’d want to help. If I were you, I’d consider the same with Murtagh.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I know,” I sighed, “The thing is though, Murtagh’s timeline differs between the book and on-screen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In what way?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Because in the book, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>dies </span>
  </em>
  <span>at Culloden.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt my chest tightened as I spoke those words. Perhaps the real reason why I chose not to tell Murtagh the truth was because I was afraid it would actually make it happen. A part of me couldn’t help but wonder if Murtagh and I would ever have a chance to ever get married, now that things were in motion. Despite having so much knowledge of things to come, I still felt incredibly powerless and also judged. Claire squeezed my hand and a warm smile tugged at her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Murtagh won’t die,” Claire assured me. “We won’t let that happen. I promise.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wanted to believe Claire’s promise and I knew it was well intended. Deep down, though, both of us were more than aware that neither of us could predict the outcome. Nevertheless, it wasn’t going to stop us from trying. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>I left Claire’s room feeling a bit more hopeful and grateful that she took everything so well. I wasn’t sure if she would tell Jamie or not, but it was out of my hand. Everything had become so overwhelming almost instantly and I longed to crawl up in Murtagh’s arms and just forget about everything for a moment. I couldn’t wait to marry him and while I was well aware that things were moving extremely fast, given that we had only recently confessed our feelings for each other, it still felt right. In my time, it would have been viewed as reckless and irresponsible. I could hear my parents’ voices in my head, warning me of making mistakes I would later regret. They would never understand and that was part of the reason why we’d grown apart over the past few years. My relationship choices never agreed with them and they made their disapproval very vocal. They would rather have seen me married to a good man than staying single and going back to school. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In this time however, there was nothing strange about marrying someone quickly. It was more rare to marry somebody for love and especially for someone like me. I was lucky and Murtagh was a good man. Even so, a part of me was still concerned about the possibilities of getting married in the middle of all the chaos. Especially if things would play out as I feared they might. I felt guilty for thinking so selfishly about my own needs when I knew how much was at stake, but my own thoughts were interrupted. One hand grabbed my waist while the other covered my mouth as I walked up through the path in the woods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A foul smell reached my nostrils and I tried to scream, but found it impossible for any sound to escape my lips. In the corner of my eye, I saw Taran’s hair and my stomach immediately began to churn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Girls like you should know their place.” Taran hissed into my ear.  “And not rise above their station. You don’t belong here, lass.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you have any say in where I do and don’t belong.” I snapped</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taran chuckled and I shuddered as he brushed a strand of hair out of my face. I wanted to move, but whenever I tried, Taran’s grip just tightened. Were just out of sight from the house that nobody would notice us. I’d always considered myself independent and strong, but in a moment like this I knew just how much that wasn’t true. At least not in this time and in this world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh that’s right, you’re not a slave?” Taran scoffed “Do you think that means you’re entitled to an opinion? I don’t have to listen to </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>kind. You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>barely </span>
  </em>
  <span>human. You know, Jenny might say you’re family, but I know who you really are.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those last words turned my pulse to ice and I had no idea what the head of the Watch could possibly mean. There was no way he knew I was from a different time or about Outlander? Maybe they’d searched our rooms and found the book? Would I be accused of being a witch and sent to burn just like Geillis Duncan? </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “You see, the good thing about working with the Redcoats,” Taran continued, “Is that they tell you a thing or two about what’s going on around here. You are a wanted lass.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” I protested, “You are mistaken!” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Aye, but ye did do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>, lass. You see, about a year ago two Redcoats soldiers who were patrolling around these parts never reported back to their commanding officer. When their bodies were found, someone said that you had been seen in their company. I’m not great at math, but I can put two and two together. You killed those men and that means you get to pay the price for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t kill anyone! If anything they were trying to hurt me without a reason!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no point arguing with Taran because he had already made up his mind. I saw it in his horrid and hateful eyes. All he cared about was his own monetary gain regardless of who got hurt or who died in the process. Nobody else was in sight and Taran’s men guarded the yard, almost as if they had prepared for this moment. Jenny and Claire were inside and weren’t likely to leave anytime soon, given Jenny’s condition. I was alone and only had one chance to make a run for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had misjudged Taran’s strength and speed. Even though I managed to elbow him in order to run, but I didn’t get far at all before he grabbed me and pushed me against a tree. Seconds later, he reached inside his coat pocket and knocked the side of my head with the edge of a blade. The last thing I remember was the sound of muffled voices before the world around me faded away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>To be continued....</strong>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>
    <i>SO I hit a writer's block a couple of weeks back, which is why this has taken so long to be updated. It's not my strongest chapter, but I'm getting my inspiration back and things are going to start changing from hereonend. What do you think will happen with Jasmine? What will Taran do with her? Leave a comment and let me know what you think!</i>
  </b>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Wentworth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Jasmine wakes up somewhere new....</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>A/N:</b> Hello! I’m back with another chapter! Sorry this one took a little longer to update than the last few. Life has been hectic even though there is a pandemic. Nevertheless, I’m here now! Thank you for all the comments and kudos! I’m glad you guys are enjoying it so far! This chapter will be split into both Jas’ pov and Murtagh’s POV, so we’ll just jump straight into it. Here is when things will begin to change somewhat from the canon storyline. <br/>Enjoy! </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter Ten</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wentworth </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Murtagh’s POV </b>
</p><p>
  <span>I’d been gone for longer than I intended. Turns out that finding a decent silversmith for an engagement ring and wedding band is harder than I thought it would be. In the end, I had to leave Broch Morda for Castle Leoch, where a friend of mine happened to owe me a favor. I kent my aunt would want to keep me around overnight and no doubt Colum had some work for me to do. I made sure to write a letter and send it back to Lallybroch, so at least Jasmine would ken I hadn’t just abandoned her. With Claire and Jamie there, as well as Ian and Jenny, I kent she was in good hands and that no harm would come to her on their account. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but notice a wee bit of tension since Jamie and Claire showed up, but that was just the Fraser stubbornness getting the better of both Jamie and Jenny. It was good to have Jamie back from France, though and hopefully he’d be staying put for a while.  I was also grateful and glad that both he and Claire were happy when they found out about the proposal. Not that I thought they would judge me and they were the last two people in the world to come with such judgement. If anything, it seemed as though the proposal had been expected and I was both happy and relieved that Jasmine said she would marry me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I just hoped there would be no trouble to get a priest who would allow us to be married. Then of course there was the matter of having somewhere to live. I had no doubt in my mind that the Frasers would allow us to stay in Lallybroch for as long as we wanted, but at least for my own sake, I wouldn’t mind a bit of privacy with my bride-to-be. However, I was a man of few riches and I didn’t really want to take up housing in Castle Leoch. I also had a feeling that Jasmine would want to stay in Lallybroch for a while at least, it was where she felt at home and safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, if I kent Dougal right, and I did, it wouldn’t take long before he ordered Jamie off on some perilous quest or another, which would mean I had to go with him. If that was the case, I would much rather that Jasmine stayed with Jenny, Ian and Claire rather than be alone somewhere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even so, it didn’t feel right to leave my future wife behind and every second I was away from her, I missed her. I sounded like a right fool and if my parents were alive they would undoubtedly mock me for it. I never thought myself to be the marrying type, but then again I also never saw myself as someone who would fall in love. I was quite happy with the idea of spending life in solitude and following Jamie on his adventures, wherever they might take us. It seemed as though fate, however, had other plans for me and who was I to disagree?  </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <b>Jasmine’s POV </b>
</p><p>
  <span>I’d suffered many hangovers in my life, but none of them had come with headaches quite like this one. For a while, I couldn’t lift my head because everytime I tried, I saw literal stars around me. I wondered if I had a concussion, but I did not possess enough medical knowledge to diagnose myself. If Claire was here, she’d be able to help me, but she wasn’t and I had a terrible feeling that wherever I was, I was on my own. The first thing that struck me when I began to regain my senses was a pungent odour resembling ammonia or urine. A few seconds later, nausea clawed at my throat and I couldn’t keep the bile down and vomited before I could stop myself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to stop waking up in strange places,” I told myself and dried my mouth and leaned back down against the cold brick wall behind me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a little while before I composed myself and was fully able to study my new surroundings. Truthfully, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that I was in a prison cell. The floor beneath me was damp and in the corner of my eyes, I saw rats hunting for food. The last thing I remembered was Taran MacQuarrie grabbing me from behind, confessing that he’d been paid by the redcoats to bring me in for the crime I’d allegedly committed. I knew where I was, but a part of me didn’t want to admit it, because I also knew what that entailed. The redcoats thought I had killed two of their men, but in truth I was innocent. Not that they would care about that, they were just happy to have me behind bars for whatever purpose I might serve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’d been in prison once before, which really was all due to a misunderstanding more than anything. My teenage years were filled with more chaos than I’d like to admit, but somehow I ‘d turned into a decent adult. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wentworth Prison was a literal nightmare. I couldn’t think of a worse place to have to spend the rest of your days. Even though it was dark down here, with the only light coming from one torch hanging on the wall outside the cell. I’d always known Jamie would end up here, but I’d never in a million years thought that I would be here. It was impossible to know, of course, but I figured if Jamie was in the cells here, he’d have made himself known to me. So, either he was still trying to save himself from hanging or something else entirely had happened. Now that everything was up in there, I had no way of knowing what was going to happen and it frustrated me to no end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sooner or later, somebody at Lallybroch would notice that I was gone and they would be asking questions. At least, so I hoped. And even if for some strange reason they didn’t, Murtagh would be back soon and if I wasn’t there when he was, there would be hell to pay. I truly hoped that once I did marry Murtagh, life would become safer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enjoying your new accommodation?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t have to guess to whom the voice belonged, because my whole body reacted by sending a shiver down my spine and made the hairs on my neck stand. For a moment, I was too frightened to look up because that would make the reality of my situation a lot more terrifying. Even so, when the sound of footsteps reached me and his shadow loomed over me, I couldn’t help but to look up at the man outside the cell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Black Jack Randall was every bit as terrifying in real life. You would have thought that knowing he would die in 1746 might make everything easier to cope with, but it didn’t. Every bone in my body vibrated with fear and I found myself pushing back against the bricked wall, as if by some miracle I might fall through and escape. There was no escaping Wentworth Prison, though and I was stuck here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all,” I said in an attempt to hide my quivering voice, “I just don’t have anything to say to the man who captured me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They did say you believe in your own innocence.” Randall scoffed as a nasty smile tugged at his lips </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The redcoat captain grasped the bars and leaned forward, undoubtedly to intimidate me more than he already had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>innocent.” I hissed “I did not kill your men, they were hurting me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you think I care about that? Surely you must be aware of your own social standing?” Randall chuckled, “Do go on, though, indulge me. Who killed them, if not you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obviously, I would never tell him that Murtagh was the one who disposed of the two redcoats. Randall was a smart man, he knew I was covering for someone and knew I would never willingly say anything that would harm Murtagh or Jamie and Claire for that matter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought as much,” Randall said, “Don’t you worry, there are many other ways in which I can retract information from you. Just you wait.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I expected more words from him, but instead Captain Randall just left the cell and when the door slammed, it slowly dawned on me what he meant by “other ways”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was in big trouble. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>To be continued….</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>
    <i>Not the longest chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Things are taking an interesting turn, what do you think will happen storywise? Leave a comment and let me know!</i>
  </b>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Prisoner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Jas deals with the realities of Wentworth...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>A/N:</b> <br/>HELLO! <br/>Firstly, I am SO SO SO SORRY that this has taken an age to upload! I needed to take a few weeks off writing because I had a bit of a mental health crisis and had to look after myself. I’m much better now and things have calmed down, so I feel like I’m able to get back into updating my fics again. There was a period of me doubting the direction this is going in and whether or not it was worth updating or just a bunch of rubbish. BUT I’ve decided to stick with it and see what happens. If you do like it please leave kudos or comments. They really help me gauge the general interest in these characters and their stories. </p><p>That said: </p><p>I am rewatching season 1 of Outlander just to remind myself of what’s been going on. From this point on, I’m not entirely following the story in terms of canonical events and I do hope you’ll forgive me for the liberties I’m taking with this. I’m also very keen to hear if you guys have any ideas for things you want me to change in the story, things you want me to bring up and other POV you want me to cover. It’ll mainly be Jas’ pov for some time ahead because I don’t want to just copy the show word for word, if that makes sense. </p><p>Anyway, enough rambling. Here is the next chapter from Jas’ point of view in Wentworth Prison. I’m not entirely sure how long Jamie was at Wentworth in the series, so bear with me if this is incorrect. </p><p>
  <b>*WARNING* THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND ASSAULT!</b>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter Ten </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Prisoner </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They say that the human body can survive for 8 to 21 days without food and up to two months without water. After that, you’ll die if not of hunger then of dehydration; the latter being the most likely. Fun fact about the human body, though: did you know that our bodies are made up to 65% of water? When you’re dying from dehydration, the first thing that happens is that you become unbearably thirsty until eventually your blood becomes thicker and more sluggish. You’ll find that your heart rate will increase because it’s trying to maintain oxygen levels. After a while, your skin will begin to shrivel, resulting in your blood pressure droppings which makes you more prone to fainting. Finally, just as you think you haven’t suffered enough, your organs will begin to shut down one by one until you die barely resembling the human you once used to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I remember this from one of the foundation courses in biology and it stuck with me. That memory occurred to me as I sat with my back against the cold brick walls of Wentworth. Randall hadn’t been back since his first appearance and I figured he was trying to intimidate me. I knew I hadn’t killed those men, but I certainly wasn’t going to tell him Murtagh was the one who found and saved me. So, in Randall’s mind I might as well be guilty because I wasn’t about to divulge any information that could harm Murtagh. We’d barely been engaged a week and I had to go and get myself captured again. I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone at Lallybroch had noticed me being gone or if they were too busy with everything else going on. Jenny was due to give birth any moment now, if she hadn’t already and I also knew both Ian and Jamie were going with Taran’s men, but now that I was at Wentworth, there was no telling what might actually happen and that uncertainty terrified me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a prison, Wentworth was remarkably silent, which unsettled me. I’d have thought there’d be at least a few other poor sods in here with me, but if they were it wasn’t in this part of the prison. I had a feeling it was rare for women to be amongst the convicts and certainly not women such as myself.So yeah, I was terrified and I knew that if Randall picked up on my fear even a little, he would undoubtedly use it against me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small squeak behind me caused a gasp to escape my lips, but I relaxed when I saw it was only one of the many rats inhabiting Wentworth. Thankfully, I wasn’t necessarily squeamish when it came to rodents and I figured the poor thing was more scared of me than I was of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no food for you here, buddy.” I said and pulled my knees up to my chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brown rat squeaked in response as if it had understood me. I watched it for a while as it sniffed every nook and cranny of the small cell. At that moment, I thought of Murtagh and a part of me knew that when he found out I was missing, there would be hell to pay. I also wondered if my life would continue to be more adventurous than I was used to, especially if I followed Claire and Jamie on their travels. Murtagh had long since sworn to Jamie’s mother that he would follow him wherever he went and now that we were engaged, my was aligned with his. Back at Lallybroch, I felt as though I bonded with Claire and I was relieved that I didn’t have to carry my secret anymore. Except, of course, from Murtagh. I still wasn’t sure how to navigate that part, but I couldn’t help but feel that I wasn’t supposed to tell him just yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you,” I said to the rat “There’s no food here. You’re better off somewhere else.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, I thought the rat responded to me, but when it reared its head and began frantically sniffing around I knew I wasn’t the one he reacted to. Quick as lightning, the small creature disappeared behind some miniscule crack in the wall and the sound of footsteps reached my ears. It didn’t take long before I saw the familiar leather boots in the corner of my eyes and the towering silhouette of a  younger guard loomed in front of me and  unlocked the iron bars. I was chained and couldn’t move, so I had no choice but to comply when the younger officer forcefully grabbed my arm and led me through the corridor and down a set of stone steps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, I’ve seen my fair share of films to know what a dungeon is supposed to look like.Even so, I was shocked by the sinister look of the. I remained frozen on the top step until the guard ushered me downwards. In a corner stood Jack Black Randall, with his back towards me. I was certain he’d heard our arrival and before I could protest, the guard pushed me down onto a wooden seat, where he tied my hands with leather straps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave us,” Randall commanded</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without a word, the guard left us alone and I almost wanted him to stay because in my mind, I’d hoped that Randall wouldn’t go forward with his plans if somebody else was there to hold him accountable. A fool’s hope if there ever was one. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s alright, Jas. You’ll be okay. This won’t last forever. You’ll be rescued and you’ll be safe again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite repeating those words in my mind, I had no idea if they were true. Claire and Jamie had their own troubles to consider and in their eyes, I was still just a stranger. They owed me no allegiance and I’d simply turned up in their life. I wanted to believe they would figure out I was missing and try to rescue me, though. So far, everything I’d seen and experienced had led me to believe they were true to their characters and there was some relief in that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I know I could try to fight Randall and try to escape, but the reality of it was that I stood no chance against him. He was a huge man, well trained in the arts of combat and I had no such skill except the odd self-defense course which would do no good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now then,” Randall said with certainty. “Let’s see if we can get you to talk, hmm?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randall ran his hands over the tools and let a giggle slip, soon followed by a snort. He breathed in deeply and then picked up the blade closest to him. As he held the blade in his hands, his eyes popped a little wider and his tongue shot out to lick his chapped lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already told you all I know,” I said, “I haven’t killed anyone. All I know is that I lost my consciousness and those men were dead.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
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  </span>
  <span>“You know what the best part about a knife is?” Randall asked, completely ignoring my words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knelt down before me, still holding the blade in one hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The best part about a knife is that it’s such a versatile tool.” he continued, “Capable of cutting through the finest piece of flesh for your stew. Skinning an animal alive. Stabbing an enemy to protect yourself.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>As he spoke, Randall rose to his feet again and walked around my chair. I kept my eyes on the floor, because I didn’t want to look at him. Seconds later, he was behind me and leaned in so that I could feel his breath on my skin. My heartbeat increased and in that moment, I knew the true meaning of fear. Randall was a man whose mind became unchangeable once he was determined. No doubt it was that determination that earned him the rank of Captain and I was sure his subordinates were just as frightened of him as everyone else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My favourite part, though.” Randall whispered as he brushed my hair from my neck. “Is that it  has the power to make people tell their deepest secrets.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gently, the cold blade rested on my shoulder blade, ever so slightly cutting into my skin. Tears streamed down my face, but I kept silent. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction or power over me. I closed my eyes and felt blood trickle down my shoulder while Randall’s breath invaded my personal space. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Resilient, eh?” Randall chuckled as he removed the blade from my neck and I breathed out. “We’ll see how long it lasts.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re wasting your time.” I told him, “I don’t have anything to say.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
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  <span>“Then we’ll simply see how long you endure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blade against my neck was only the beginning. I thought I would be able to keep silent and eventually he’d realise there was no use. However, I’d underestimate his own endurance and nothing seemed to tire him out. Every now and again though, I caught a glimpse of his eyes and I could tell he was getting frustrated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s when the worst of it started. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack Black Randall’s coarse whisky tongue licked at my skin, stubby fingers curled in my hair. Every time I closed my eyes he bashed my head backwards onto the concrete, demanding I open them and look at him. I didn’t want to - God knows I didn’t want to. All I wanted was to be back in the safety of Murtagh’s arms and never leave again. I didn’t want to anger Randall further and I knew I was powerless against his much superior strength. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t know who would hear my screams and my cries for help, but eventually it stopped. Every single part of my body ached and my hands were sore. I heard the door open and a few moments later, a hand pulled me up from the ground. I was led out of the chambers and through the corridor to my cell. The guard opened the cell door and threw me on the cold concrete floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re lucky,” the guard said “He could have killed you the first time, but he wants you alive.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That could only mean one thing. </span>
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  <span>The worst was yet to come.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>To be continued...</strong>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>
    <i>A short-ish chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! I’m rewatching season1 to figure out how to tie the events together. Should Jamie and Jas be at Wentworth together or should they somehow swap places? Let me know in the comments!</i>
  </b>
</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b><br/>    <i>There we are, the first chapter. I’m usually terrible at opening chapters, but they will get longer and more interesting. Like I mentioned, this is something I’m writing for fun and I have no idea where I’m going with it yet, but I’d love to know your thoughts.</i><br/>  </b>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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